Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Surprisingly, Kuvira found freedom to feel a little too free. She already missed the feel of enclosure, of earth in all directions, comforting despite her inability to use it for any practical purpose. The sky was too open, promised too much. The endless stretch of forest past the high stone walls hinted at too many possibilities. In the moment, she found herself truly believing in the idea of acceptance, of stepping into Ba Sing Se and not being greeted with iron eyes and hate. She fooled herself that she could walk into one of the villages she’d cajoled into her empire and not hear a hundred curses. Perhaps the Avatar had been right. Perhaps she could still make things right.

Korra waited in that harsh sunlight, as she promised she would. After so many years Kuvira should not have been surprised. The Avatar had rarely failed to deliver on a promise and, even in failure, had never failed to try her best. A flash of raven tumbles, described in such detail during Korra’s visits as to make them identifiable without a face, stood at her side, the expression beneath them suggesting Asami Sato did not share Korra’s forgiveness. Kuvira could not blame her. She’d killed the woman’s father, after all.

Ms. Sato glared while the Avatar stepped past the White Lotus guards lined to either side and offered a genuine smile Kuvira’s way. “How does it feel?”

“Hallucinogenic,” Kuvira answered. “As if I do not recognize the colors around me. I don’t suppose I’ve been imprisoned in the Spirit World all this time?”

Korra crossed her arms, familiar muscles rippling like taught cords from fingertip to shoulder. “Close enough. You’ve been gone a long time.”

“Five years.” Kuvira could hardly believe it; both how long she’d been gone, and how much longer her sentence could have been. “I will not know this world you’ve created.”

“We’ve created,” Korra corrected. “After all, you were the one who fired that weapon.”

Ms. Sato seemed to especially bristle at those words. She seemed to take offense to the idea of Kuvira helping create anything great that her lover was responsible for. Lover. The word brought back memories of Baatar Beifong, the second, and from there the Beifongs as a whole. Kuvira had hoped at least one of them would be here today. The Avatar had promised to make the attempt. Kuvira could ask for no more.

“I’m sorry,” Korra said. “Baatar wished to be here. Opal, too, surprisingly. Still not sure why. I would have let her if I wasn’t worried she’d attack on sight.”

That was enough. Kuvira allowed herself a slight smile. She raised her still cuffed hands. “What now? Do we transfer to another prison given a nicer name, but a prison nonetheless? I’m at your mercy, Avatar.”

Korra rolled her eyes. “Really? After five years I’m still ‘Avatar’ to you?”

Kuvira snuck another glance at the dark-haired Ms. Sato. “I did not wish to presume a certain familiarity. I might cause offense.”

A snort answered her. Korra signaled the White Lotus forward, two taking a hold of an arm each while the others lined ahead of and behind her. Korra stayed just ahead of her. Ms. Sato stepped in stride beside her. The Avatar’s cheeks flushed when their hands intertwined.

Kuvira heard the airship past the gates. As the metal scraped open, surrounded to either side by stone, she felt the possibilities within them, the lure of power long unused. It would have been a simple thing to escape if she had ever slipped from her cage. The opportunities had been there. She’d dreamed of them, dreamed of the necklace a guard had worn while delivering her meal, dreamed of those first days when she’d been kept in a cage with metal lock and key. Such a simple thing.

Only Korra kept her complacent. Korra, and the redemption only possible through her. Above all else, isolation forced reflection upon one’s successes and failures. There was nothing to do in her cell but think. Even when she danced, she thought. Memories flowed alongside her limbs, the years transitioning in synch with her bare feet over the smooth platinum. Despite the years spent pondering, she could never pinpoint the moment of transformation. A lifetime would likely never be enough. Eventually, she’d simply given up. Instead she focused on Korra’s promises.

“I believe you know Asami,” the Avatar said, a silly attempt to break the ice so central to her personality. The tension between her lover and Kuvira was a crumbling mountain over their heads, threatening to crush them all. Of course Korra would attempt to dispatch the boulders.

“Hello, Ms. Sato,” Kuvira greeted amiably. The turned head and silence she received was better than she expected.

“Sami,” Korra said.

Kuvira did not need to see Ms. Sato’s glare to feel its heat.

Earth Kingdom soldiers waited at the bottom of the ramp leading inside the airship. Their faces were too young and too innocent to have served under Kuvira, but she noted with a lingering pride the influence of her Empire upon the design of their uniforms. She climbed a ladder, walked a comfortably claustrophobic hallway, descended another ladder, turned right at an intersection, and waited as Korra opened a bulkhead. The White Lotus was gone and the Earth Kingdom soldiers had taken their posts elsewhere, leaving only the Avatar and Ms. Sato beside Kuvira. The metalbender followed past the open bulkhead and down yet another hallway, obviously a crew quarters. Kuvira wondered how many soldiers had sacrificed their bunks out of their superiors’ fears she would poison them if stationed too close.

The room the Avatar led her to was expectedly small, with a narrow bunk shaped from the same metal as the wall, a single candle, and a waist-high shelf packed with books and newspapers. One newspaper sat atop the shelf with scraps of paper wedged between the sheets. Two distinct sets of handwriting had been inked upon the paper. Kuvira wondered how Korra had convinced her lover to help with the notes, or whether she even told her the purpose.

The Avatar sighed, turned, and placed balled fists upon her waist, an unnecessary attempt at intimidation. After the day she’d seen a God save her life, Kuvira could never be anything less than intimidated in Korra’s presence. “It should only take a day to reach our destination. Do I really need to remind you to behave yourself?”

For the first time, Kuvira noticed the weariness in Korra’s eyes. She thought of putting them to question until she remembered the woman waiting outside the room. “No.”

“This is your chance, Kuvira. I put myself on the line here. I’m trusting that everything you’ve told me over the past five years is the truth and not some scheme you’re been hatching. Don’t betray my trust.”

“I wouldn’t dare, Avatar,” Kuvira said. “I may be a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them.”

Korra’s broad shoulders relaxed. She struck Kuvira’s shoulder half-heartedly with a fist, still strong enough to feel past the muscle, at the bone. “What did I just say about calling me Avatar?”

Kuvira smiled. “I wouldn’t dare, Korra.”

“Good.”

Ever one thirsty to stay ahead of the rest of the world, Kuvira immediately grabbed for the newspapers in and atop the bookshelf when the door closed and locked behind Korra. She even managed to ignore the muffled voices tempting her to listen. The headlines she read were consistent with the tidbits fed to her during those sparse visits allowed to her this past decade. The Earth Kingdom’s newly established system of delegates was firmly established by now, with “King” Wu retaining his throne mostly through name only. Firelord Izumi continued to defend her inaction during the Battle for Republic City, claiming she had mobilized her forces to move in the event the city had fallen. The Air Nation continued its expansion. There was little word of the Water Tribes, as ever. Kuvira had known them as a reclusive people, apart from Unalaq’s madness.

Korra’s personal notes cluttered the more interesting stories, her trademark intensity evident even in print. She seemed content only to comment on those stories involving the pacification of the remnants of Kuvira’s army. Most of them had hidden away, still believing the war would continue upon Kuvira’s return. Some continued the fight and were dealt with swiftly. Kuvira scanned for details she did not know. There were not many.

Besides those, Korra seemed to take pride in offering greater detail on those brief blips reporting the ever-constant traditions of the Southern Water Tribe she still considered her home. A lifetime in Republic City had not stolen her heritage from her. Festivals, important birthdays, resignations and elections, things that no one outside the culture found important enough to write more than a few hundred words about were expanded upon and explained. It brought a smile to Kuvira’s face. She had lost her soul preserving her homeland. No one understood that type of pride better.

She had just begun to delve into an article about some new piece of Future Industries technology when the door to her room clanged violently open. Asami Sato stepped inside, flushed and fearless. Her jade eyes were afire.

“I need you to hear it directly from you,” she said. “I trust Korra implicitly, and I do not doubt her, but that does not mean she cannot be wrong. So I need to hear it from you. Tell me you are not going to betray her. Tell me this is not some ploy.”

Kuvira stared down the woman before her, thinking of those few interactions she’d had with Asami Sato back in Zaofu. She’d always been a confident woman, but also a woman hiding an uncertainty in herself and her life, masked beneath the mascara and blush upon her face. She’d also held a fear of benders despite her considerable talents in combat. That uncertainty and fear was gone now, vanished into the air like a screeching bird in mist. In its place was a polished platinum wall; unbreakable, unbendable, without weakness to exploit.

“There is nothing I can say that will convince you of my sincerity,” Kuvira said. “Only actions will sway you, so that’s what I intend to do.”

“Say it anyway.”

“Fine.” Kuvira stood, and the woman before her did not flinch. “I will not betray Avatar Korra. I would not dare. More than anyone alive I know the power that woman possesses. I watched her stare down a weapon capable of leveling entire city blocks, a weapon of pure evil, and do so without hesitation. I watched her turn that evil into the purest good. I was there beside her when she displayed a power beyond comprehension.”

“Ms. Sato, I would have to be a blind fool to again make myself the target of that type of power. And if I was that blind a fool, I would never have surrendered five years ago. I would have fought until she had no choice but to smear my remains across the spirit vines I had desecrated. That I am here now is proof enough in my own mind that I am no such fool.”

Kuvira met the cold flame of those green eyes as they searched her own. “I will never forget that day,” Ms. Sato said, with a tinge of sweet memory riding in her voice. “Make sure you do not either.” With that, she turned sharp as a sword and left Kuvira to her prison.

The metalbender returned to the newspaper, soaking in the cold, but hopeful scratch upon paper accompanying an article about the reconstruction of Republic City.

Chapter Text

Korra breathed deep, her long hair threaded through her fingers as she rested her sweaty forehead in her palms. She looked up when the door to the captain’s cabin, a forced offer upon her by the airships captain, squeaked open. Asami offered her own forced offer of a smile after closing the metal rectangle behind her.

“You’re still not convinced, are you?” the Avatar asked.

A lie came naturally to her lover’s lips. Lies were a useful tool in her profession, and Asami was most certainly a capable liar. She swallowed the words heavily. There were no lies between the two of them. “No.”

Korra stood, her body impossibly sore, like after a particularly grueling sparring session. “I don’t blame you. And I’m not going to try and force you. It’s not like I’m the best at reading people. Maybe I’m being a total bonehead and not seeing what everyone else sees. What did you think?”

Asami bowed her head. “I thought you weren’t good at reading people? How do you know I went to see her?”

“I know how to read you,” Korra said, blushing absurdly. Spirit’s sake, they’d been together for five years, best friends for years longer, and Asami still made her heat up like a schoolgirl.

“I think she means well…right now.” Asami frowned. Korra hated it, the way those frowns tensed her face, curving hard lines in the flawless skin. “But what happens when she’s out in the world again? What happens when she has freedom? What if Suyin decides five years wasn’t enough?”

Like you, Korra didn’t say. There was no need. Was five years enough to forgive the woman who killed your father? Korra remembered her own father flung from a cliff. She’d forgiven Zaheer for many things, but never for that. And her father still lived.

“Ugh, enough of this, we’ll find out soon enough,” Korra said, sprawling back across the neatly made blanket covering their bunk. She felt Asami’s glare accompany the wrinkle of the fabric and smiled. “Severity sucks. Let’s forget about it until this things hits solid ground again.”

“You better hope it never hits solid ground,” Asami said, grinning. “They’re not supposed to.”

“Shut up, you know what I meant. The last thing in the world I want to think about right now is how stupid I might be for trusting Kuvira.” She supposed not thinking was stupid as well, but what was done was done. Why fret over it? If Kuvira betrayed her, this time Korra would stick her in a nice, quiet prison cell somewhere deep in the snow and let the idiot freeze the rest of her life away.

The bunk creaked when Asami sat next to her. Light glinted off the etched metal around her neck. Korra smiled inanely, as always. What else would she do? Just the thought made her giddy. She reached for her own necklace, tracing the fabric tight around her neck, still unbelieving.

“You’re so different,” Asami said.

“In a good way, I hope.” Korra curled a lip nervously.

“Of course. Used to be you’d be down in that hallway outside that room, pacing back and forth waiting for a fight.”

Korra grinned. She was always grinning. “I am a fully realized Avatar now. Master of the Elements, spiritual guru, calm, intelligent, symbol for all the world. And humble, I can’t forget to mention how humble I am.”

Asami laughed, and Korra again realized how vital the sound was to her being. “Of course, dear, you’re a regular stone wall of never-changing emotion.”

The day passed quickly, the two women spending most of it making their rounds of the airship; Asami would spend her time inspecting vital systems with the engineers and rechecking the flight path with the pilots, Korra knew. The Avatar had no such important responsibilities or knowledge of the technology keeping them afloat. She did what her fiancé had correctly predicted she would do; she paced the hallways. She moved from guard post to guard post speaking with the Earth Kingdom soldiers aboard the ship. Whether she meant to scrutinize their every word or not, she wasn’t sure. None of them had served under Kuvira but Korra still found herself wondering about them. Fully realized Avatar or not, she still wasn’t very good at reading anyone besides Asami.

Sunrise painted the sky a vivid clash of lavender and crimson when they arrived. Two Earth Kingdom platoons had set up a makeshift camp of rock tents sprawling across the steadily climbing slope beyond the airship’s ramp. Standards hung limp in the still air, each bearing the jade coin emblem of their nation. Two metalbenders, the lieutenants in command of the platoons, waited at the bottom of the ramp, each attended by four soldiers.

Korra again marched beside Kuvira, this time down the ramp to the waiting Earth Kingdom camp. No word had been spoken to Kuvira of their destination or her role once they arrived, and her confusion was evident in her narrowed eyes. She quickly fell into a familiar rhythm, one she’d lived for three years straight. Her head was held high as she passed each bent tent. Despite her cuffed hands, each stride of her long legs held an earned authority.

The largest tent of all was three large triangles of rock, same as the others, and it was here the metalbenders led Kuvira. A map of the region was sprawled across a stone table inside. The platoons’ position was marked on it, along with what Korra assumed was the presumed location of the insurgents hiding nearby. Kuvira answered their questions quickly and concisely. She pointed out ideal scouting and ambush points. By the time she finished, Korra was feeling pretty darn good about herself.

Alarmed shouts swelled through the camp like a wave moments before the tent walls collapsed around them. Korra just managed to catch the broken pieces before they could bury her and the others within. Glimmers of light flashed by, some ricocheting off the rock before embedding in the dirt. Metal strips.

The metalbending lieutenants began tossing the still pieces of rock under Korra’s control at unseen foes. “Unshackle me!” Kuvira shouted. She narrowed her eyes angrily when met with hesitation. “You’re going to have to trust me eventually, Avatar. What good am I bound and helpless?”

Korra screamed and threw the remainder of the rock towards a mass of metalbenders storming between the trees. She had hoped for more time before this happened. A battle or two watched atop a ridge, Kuvira at her side. A village or two made amends with. She had not planned on throwing the woman into battle so soon.

Reluctantly, she retrieved the key from her pocket and unlocked Kuvira’s cuffs. She snatched the worn collar of Kuvira’s shirt. “I’ll be right behind you.”

The metalbenders had descended upon the camp in force, a barrage of boulders blasting apart the Earth Kingdom tents. Strips of metal bound wrists and ankles. Kuvira deflected a pair aimed at her neck but was thrown off balance when three more bound both ankles and her waist. Korra quickly tore the metal away.

“Thanks,” Kuvira said. “I’m a little out of practice.”

“Better pick it up.” Korra was only half-joking.

The battle passed as a hail of stones and a steady, whipping wind of steel. Kuvira danced through it at Korra’s side. She remembered watching the metalbender flow through those same motions in Zaofu eight years earlier, and remembered the way her grace and agility translated into her fighting. Where Korra was a bull, charging through hostile benders with power and aggression, Kuvira was the wind. In many ways she was more an air bender than the stubborn, unmovable earth of her kind. She flowed around attacks, turning the metalbenders attacks against them. She repelled some of the metal strips with flicks of the wrist. Others she caught and sent back. The earth beneath the attackers’ feet twisted with every graceful sweep of a foot.

Hesitation halted the insurgents’ attacks as they realized who was fighting beside Korra. A few called out to Kuvira. Some assumed her on their side, not realizing their mistake until it was too late. They were forced back into the trees, surely and steadily. Those bound and left behind stared confusedly as Kuvira passed. The smarter among them, those who realized what was happening, spat at her feet.

Korra worked with the recovering Earth Kingdom soldiers to raise a wave of clay-colored dirt and send it crashing over the heads of the insurgents. When the dust cleared, the fight was over. They’d taken fifteen captives. Perhaps forty had attacked. It felt like so much more.

Asami found Korra later as she tended to the wounded, ally and enemy both. “Where’s Kuvira?” she asked.

“With the lieutenants, revising the plan.” Korra took a deep breath, concentrating on the injured insurgent before her still bound by metal strips. “She did good, Sami.”

Asami nodded. “I saw. Are you okay?”

“Of course.” Korra leapt to her feet and flexed, but could not hide a grimace. “Well, maybe a little beat up.”

“Can’t be that bad if you’re actually up and moving,” Asami teased. “Suck it up, Avatar.”

Korra snorted, bouncing on her toes as if she actually needed to prove something. “Well, want to go see how our friend is doing?”

Asami nodded, gripping the betrothal necklace tight around her throat as she always did in the aftermath of a battle. She hurried to the retreating Korra’s side and clasped her hand.

Chapter Text

Isolation was quite a different experience when one was not truly alone.

Kuvira had experienced many forms of isolation in her life. As an orphan wandering the slums of Ba Sing Se, she’d experiences the isolation of a child lost at sea, devoid of any direction besides the pursuit of food and shelter. As the adopted “daughter” of Suyin Beifong, she’d experienced the isolation of knowing she could never truly be one of her children. During her rise through the ranks to become captain of Zaofu’s city guard, she’d experienced the isolation of superiority and the jealousy born of it. In the three years she’d spent building her Empire, the isolation of true leadership had been her closest friend. And of course, she’d experienced the truest isolation in her five years within her cell, in those long months with no human contact, the only voice to be heard her own.

All of these isolations were different from what Kuvira experienced now. Korra sat beside a fire, laughing and smiling with her lover. Kuvira had come to know the Avatar’s laugh in her visits to the metalbender’s prison. Those irreplaceable hours sharing tea and stories had changed her forever. To hear that laugh so close and know she was not welcome to share in its acceptance and understanding was a loneliness, a separation, that Kuvira could recall no comparison for. Korra would openly welcome her. Kuvira knew this. It was the woman beside her who made approach impossible.

Ms. Sato had warmed slightly in the weeks the three women had spent traveling the Earth Kingdom. She no longer regarded Kuvira with open distrust, instead content to hide it beneath polite smiles. Sometimes she would not fall back when Korra talked to the metalbender, and lately joined in their conversations. Her words were most often directed towards the Avatar, but not always.

And Korra herself was no fool. She understood the tension, the reason for its existence. It was the same tension sharp as a thousand knives in the eyes of every Earth Kingdom citizen they had come across during their travels, waiting to stab Kuvira back into non-existence. Many towns and villages still bore the damage inflicted on them by or because of her campaign. They spit stories of unruly bandits run amok without Kuvira’s iron grip to contain them, of families lost or ruined.

“I thought today went well,” Korra said, as if reading the metalbender’s mind. “Better than the others, at least.”

“It would be quite difficult not to do better than before,” Kuvira mumbled.

That first village, long dead even when Kuvira first saw it and no better after the war, had been among the hardest steps she’d ever taken in her life. Loose shutters battered the windows of empty houses lining the street like a ghost town. A pig farm, still alive five years earlier, was now home to rows of graves. Many homes had collapsed, and even more were on the verge. Those few villagers who showed themselves spat Kuvira’s way. One boy tossed a rock the size of his fist at her face.

Even when they left the next day, every waking hour spent repairing homes and situating those merchants who’d agreed to set up shop in the struggling town, nothing had changed. Kuvira was seen off with the same hatred which greeted her. She bore it stone-faced, as she bore everything. It would have done no good to linger on thoughts of their hate.

Korra laughed beside the fire, and Asami chuckled softly as well. “True. But still, at least I didn’t have to make this town give you dinner. They might even have appreciated your help when we left.”

Kuvira kept silent.

“Keep doing what you’re doing,” the Avatar continued. “You’ll never get all of their love, but you’re not doing this only to redeem yourself in the eyes of others. You’re doing this to redeem yourself in your own eyes. The love of the people is secondary to your own spirit.”

“This coming from a woman who used to want to fight the media every time she read the newspaper,” Ms. Sato said with a roll of her bright green eyes.

“Hey! I don’t do that anymore!”

“Oh really? What about that poor woman two months ago whose notepad you set on fire?”

Korra feigned innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The two lovers broke down into shared giggles and whispers, and once again Kuvira found herself in isolation. She felt the Avatar’s eyes on her as she retreated to the small canvas tent containing her bedroll; rock tents were not allowed. The first night of their travels, Kuvira had only just bent shelter into place around her when Korra returned each side back into the earth.

She woke the next morning to find the Avatar still beside the fire, both as bright as they had been the previous night. They were sharing a modest breakfast of fruit and water when Ms. Sato woke to join them. As usual, they were packed and again traveling before the sun had fully escaped the horizon. All three women shared a desire to always be moving, always acting in some way. They knew no other way too live.

Kuvira sensed something different the moment they set foot in the sprawling town covering the banks where a large river forked in two separate directions. It wasn’t the spirits roaming free in the azure sky; Kuvira had grown used to the sight of them. Everywhere else she’d been had felt walled off, the hostility in the air pressing in from all sides until the pressure threatened to cave in her chest. This town was different. This town felt…open.

A rumbling groan shook the ground beneath Kuvira’s feet as she followed Korra across a bridge fording the span of one river. The Avatar and Ms. Sato both smiled brightly, smiles of recognition. A colossal sneeze preceded tufts of hay sent gusting out of a thin alley between two buildings. Korra sent Asami ahead and turned back to Kuvira.

“If this is Opal, it’s probably best if you stay close to me,” she said. It seemed just barely a joke.

Neither of the excited squeals Kuvira heard matched the one she often heard in Zaofu, watching a shy young non-bender with a fire within her thin frame tail her older siblings around. Korra held a hand to halt the metalbender when they reached the alley, and smiled when she saw who was there. She had not fully lowered her hand back to her side before a slim young woman with the tips of blue arrows peeking past at the edge of her hairline and the cuffs of her sleeves bowled into her arms.

“Korra!” the young airbender squealed. She somehow managed a graceful separation. “It’s so great to see you.”

“It’s great to see you, too, Jinora,” Korra said fondly. “And you, Kai.”

Asami exited the alleyway with another young airbender at her side, this one just as slight as Jinora, even shorter, and with a poor attempt at a mustache above his upper lip. “Hi, Korra.”

“Looks like Pepper’s throwing a fit,” Asami said to Korra, grinning.

“Probably because these two spoil him rotten,” the Avatar said.

“Maybe a little,” Jinora admitted.

Kuvira watched silently, keeping her distance, as the four tossed barbs at each other with the same friendly nature she used to pass liquid meteorite back and forth during her youth in Zaofu. She breathed deep, chasing the memories away.

Eventually, all four pairs of eyes turned her way. Kuvira ignored the naïve judgment in Kai’s stare, focusing instead on the curiosity in Jinora’s. Korra often spoke of the talented young master with a sisterly pride, sharing stories of the many deeds she accomplished as her father’s right hand.

Jinora stepped towards Kuvira, straight of spine and calm as a placid lake. “You’re most definitely different,” she said to Kuvira. “I still remember that moment when you and Korra stepped out of the spirit portal. The air felt alive with an energy unlike anything I’d felt besides the Spirit World. All except around you. Around you was…nothing. Like you’d imprisoned your spirit long before.”

“You’re not far off.” A bitter piece of Kuvira’s mind, solid metal lodged too deep to remove, still believed she had been right, that anyone would have sacrificed the way she sacrificed to see their homeland made whole.

“But now it’s back. Like it was a piece of a puzzle lost and found.” The young airbender bowed her head sheepishly. “I…wasn’t sure if you’d really changed. I thought Korra was wrong. Sorry.”

Over Jinora’s shoulder, Kuvira could see Kai’s slanted eyes lose their tension and return to normal. She also noticed the smile on Korra’s face, the way her eyes bragged when they glanced at Asami. “Apology accepted.”

“So, Kai?” Korra said, gesturing towards Jinora. “Behaving yourself?”

The poor kid’s face burned as deep a crimson as his gliding suit.

A four-level inn rose tall above its neighbors on the river bank. Kuvira followed towards the building, entirely unaware of the attempt by her four companions to inconspicuously surround her; Korra and Kai walked in front of her, a giggling Asami and Jinora behind. It was an unnecessary reminder of how little trust they truly felt towards the metalbender.

A busy common room broke off their conversations and swarmed once Korra was recognized. They just as quickly hushed when Kuvira entered, unmistakable with her hair again in the bun that had been her style for years. Along with the forest green of her clothes and the metal strips pinned to her shoulders, forearms, and thighs, her appearance was as close as it would get to that of the cold-hearted woman who’d conquered the Earth Kingdom six years prior.

The innkeep was a vaguely recognizable woman dressed in green. She eagerly provided five small cups and poured them full of tea from a kettle. “It is so wonderful to see you again,” she said. Long, awkward moments passed before Kuvira realized the words were meant for her. “We still appreciate what you did for us.”

Only when she was gone did Kuvira take note of the others occupying the inn. Every stare in the room was directed her way. Most looked away when her head turned their way, but not all. A few smiled and nodded. It felt like a cruel joke, and Kuvira found herself breathing deep to stay calm.

“I told you,” Korra said, snapping Kuvira’s attention back to the table. Jinora, Kai, and Asami had left to retrieve their meals from the innkeep. The bowls placed before them clearly did not require all three. “I may not like it, but not everyone hates what you did. Your methods were inexcusable, but you did bring peace to a nation tearing itself apart. Many are still grateful.”

“I never mistrusted you when you said so before.” Kuvira took another look around. Most had returned to their meals and conversations, though some still peeked her way. “It’s just…nice to see. No one wants to remember how much of the Earth Kingdom willingly joined me. To be honest, I did not remember this town as one of them.”

The others returned with their food. Only Kai did not have a bowl. “I already ate,” he said, his voice low and somber. “I think I’ll go check on Pepper.”

Asami hardly waited for the boy to leave before leaning forward conspiratorially. “What is going on with you two?”

Jinora blushed. “I don’t know. We just sometimes…I don’t know! We just got back together and thing should be great. Today was horrible, though. He should be nicer to Pepper.”

“Ah, teenage love,” Asami teased, elbowing her fiancé.

“Stop it!” Jinora whined. “Not everyone can be so in love like you two. And I may have been a kid but I still remember you two and Mako.”

Korra snorted, spraying bits of broth and meat from her mouth. “You got us there,” she managed to choke out once she was done coughing and laughing.

Kuvira watched the three women talk and laugh, their smiles never leaving their faces. She remembered having similar conversations with Opal, and similar problems in her teenage love life. No one was immune to dumb teenage love, not even Kuvira. And she had spent her fair share of nights listening to Opal’s complaints, which were always followed by promises to never speak a word of it to “their” mother. She remembered the heartbreak on the young girl’s face the day Kuvira left Zaofu, and the cold, open hatred on Opal’s face three years later.

The acceptance in the eyes of the strangers surrounding her no longer mattered so much.

Chapter Text

A flock of ghost-like birds hopped from branch to gnarled branch between the trees above Korra’s head. Even now, the Spirit World held surprises. She took a moment to watch the unknown spirits and the canopy of dark blue leaves. After a deep, calming breath, she allowed herself to be taken.

The leaves gave way to a sky bright as an elongated sun over a field of crackling green and purple. The sky darkened to a foreboding purple and the ground changed to a barren waste the color of blood. Neon jungles, canyons seemingly running seemingly endlessly into the earth, and mountains of blue ice passed by in blurs somehow sharp as photographs. When Korra finally came to a stop, it was before a trio of steaming lakes surrounded by a snowy plain.

As always, she took time to observe differences since her last visit to this strange new realm. It felt mere days ago that the three lakes had been one, the snow had been ankle deep and perpetually melting, and there were no spirits to be seen for miles around. Now bear-fish leapt from the waters before splashing back down, slithering snow-boas hid within frost-covered bramble, and a towering, floppy-eared dog with fur black as night walked upon its hind legs sure as any human.

Most of all, Korra noticed the ever changing sky. It seemed different every time she visited; a blue matching the flawless waters, a gray promising fierce blizzards, a vibrant red outstripping any sunset she’d ever seen, other colors she never saw again. She’d been told that above all else, the physical appearance each portion of the Spirit World reflected the personality of its master. Korra stared at a sky angry as a bruise, all purples, greens, and yellows, and wondered what caused such violence to reign above such beauty.

For that sky was not singularly caused by her emotions. This realm of the Spirit World was affected as much by Asami’s mindset as her own. Seeing such sorrow, she couldn’t help but picture lipstick and blush smeared over crossed arms after another night spent asleep in an office. Or perhaps this time Asami’s voice had been shouted raw in stressful conferences with her colleagues. Two weeks had passed since she’d returned to Republic City, and the goodbyes spoken that day had been strained, to say the least. Asami would most certainly throw herself into her work. Even if she had to invent said work.

Korra’s physical body woke to the sight of a stone ceiling and a shaggy tail wagging back and forth. Naga was the first to notice her return, greeting the Avatar with a long, slobbery lick across the length of her face.

“She never left your side,” Kuvira said. She sat in a chair, reading a book.

“She never does.” Korra ruffled Naga’s neck and chest, and the two quickly devolved into a friendly wrestling match. “Isn’t that right, girl?”

Naga woofed happily.

“I thought meditating to reach the spirit world would look more peaceful,” Kuvira said.

“What do you mean?”

“Your expression constantly changed. One moment you’d smile, the next your mouth would gape open in surprise, then your teeth would grit. You frowned, your eyebrows curved up and down, there was a constant change. Naga stayed calm so I assumed nothing to be wrong.”

“Well, this wasn’t exactly the best trip I’ve ever taken into the Spirit World,” Korra joked uneasily.

The two women sat quietly, Korra still rubbing Naga’s chest. She’d have to write Asami a letter. Or maybe she could find a radio and give her a call. Anything besides avoiding the situation entirely.

“I know we’re not truly friends,” Kuvira said. “But you’ve done right by me. If not for you, I would be going mad in my prison cell right now. A lent ear is a small down payment on the credit you loaned me, but I will offer it all the same.” When Korra still said nothing, Kuvira added, “It’s Asami, I presume? Her departure was less than congenial. Because of me, of course.”

Korra frowned. She had the cold, green flame in Asami’s eyes many times; facing down those who wished her harm, who wished Asami harm, who tried to cheat her in meetings or reneged on contracts. She’d seen it flicker in Asami’s eyes when a worker in one of her factories made a mistake costing them a day of production. As gentle as Asami could be, she always had that flame simmering beneath the surface, ready to spring forth when tempted.

Their goodbyes two weeks ago was one of the few times Korra had seen the flames directed towards her. It had only been a moment, blink and you miss it, but Korra had not blinked, and the flames had frightened her.

“It’s a lot harder for her to trust you when she’s not here,” Korra said. “She’d never admit it, but Asami’s a real worrier. She doesn’t like that you’re out of prison, she doesn’t like that I insist on being here with you, and she especially doesn’t like that she’s not here to have my back.”

Kuvira nodded thoughtfully. “And she’s highly possessive of you, of course.”

That was the last thing Korra ever thought of Asami. “What do you mean?”

“I was engaged before, if you recall,” Kuvira said. “I know most people assumed Baatar to be some kind of manipulation on my part, but I did love him. Five years with nothing but memories made sure I never forgot what true love really feels like. Believe me when I tell you that Ms. Sato worries about you and me not just because of your safety, but because she fears us growing close without her at your side. I have not forgotten the objections she had to your visits while I was still imprisoned.”

Korra snorted. “That’s stupid.”

“Love can be very, very stupid.”

Korra recalled those long nights spent juvenilely wishing terrible things upon Asami, those stupid years ago when two immature girls competed over the same boy, then the many more nights spent becoming the best of friends, never realizing all the time how their spirits had grown intertwined, the roots too deep to ever pull from the earth. She smiled and rubbed at the necklace tight around her throat.

“I guess I can see why she’d worry.” Naga whined, and Korra pinched her cheeks. “It’s still stupid.”

“I knew the day I left prison that nothing I could say would make anyone trust me. I told Ms. Sato as much when she came to interrogate me.”

“For what it’s worth, I trust you.”

Kuvira bowed, still so intent on formality. “For that I thank you, Korra.”

The Avatar stayed up late into the night, bent over paper with quill in hand as a single candle burned away. All she produced was a steadily growing pile of crumpled nonsense. By the time she lay down in her bed, the glow of the candle flame had infiltrated the dark beneath her eyelids, making sleep difficult.

When her body finally succumbed, her mind gave her no respite; it dreamed of Zaheer.

Years had passed since that day haunted her regularly, but the nightmare still lay in wait deep within her subconscious, a monster under the bed that waited until Korra had almost forgotten its existence before springing forth. She woke out of breath, covered in sweat, and with tears streaming down her face. Naga’s comforting tongue lapping gently at her arm did nothing to cool the boil in her blood.

Korra stepped onto the balcony outside the room to find the moon had hardly moved since she last saw it. The night was sticky and still, with the smell of the day’s rain still strong in the air. Having lost any prospect of sleep that night, she sat cross-legged on the stone, took a deep breath, and entered the Spirit World yet again.

A swirling blizzard had iced over the surface of one of the three lakes when she arrived. The other two seemed to shiver as they fought off the same fate. The sky was not the grey of a snowstorm, but a violent canvas of blood red, violent purple, and sickly green. Korra’s teeth chattered and she ran for the lake, which still steamed. She dove in the water, sighing deeply as the warmth enveloped her.

Slowly, the snow tapered off and sky changed to a crystal blue reflecting the three lakes. Small fox-birds fluttered into the air and a pink dragonfly bunny fluttered across the lake. The floppy-eared dog shuffled close on its hind legs. Korra scratched its upturned belly.

“I suppose I should apologize for that storm,” she said. “I’m sure I’m to blame.”

The dog tilted its large head.

“This part of the Spirit World is me, after all. Well, mostly me. And the part that isn’t me is affected by me. So it’s definitely my fault when it snows like that.”

Still the dog stared. For some reason, despite it never saying a word, Korra was disappointed in its silence. The quiet made her feel like a kid again, and her parents were just staring at her, refusing to scream the way she expected.

“I’m trying to do the right thing. I love Asami more than anything in the world, but Kuvira is my responsibility. I had her released, and now I need to be there for here as well. It’s not a matter of trust, I’m not lying when I say I trust her, but how would Kuvira take it if I walked away now? Even if it was only temporary? What if someone’s out there waiting to take her?”

A snow boa slithered across the melting surface of the frozen lake. The dog’s ear perked up, but it did not give chase.

“Or maybe Kuvira doesn’t believe I trust her because I won’t leave her alone.” Korra groaned. “How am I supposed to know? This doesn’t get any easier. I thought these decisions would be by now. I thought knowing the right choice from the wrong choice would come simpler. Instead, it’s only getting harder.”

The dog sat and nuzzled beneath Korra’s chin. Familiar smells intoxicated her; snow melted into fur, her mother’s cooking, her father’s hand when he pinched her cheeks. She smelled oil and machinery. She smelled perfume and makeup on a pillow. Korra closed her eyes, snuggled tight against the dog’s head, and breathed these smells in deep.

She and Naga were aboard an airship bound for Republic City the following night, after a day spent making writing, sending, and receiving messages.

Asami had never truly moved back into her mansion. Sometimes, on extended breaks from work, she would bother to make the drive back. There were always trips back and forth when she needed something from the library or wanted to switch out her wardrobe. The space came in handy for parties both political and personal. For the most part, though, Asami resided in her penthouse suite atop the Bird’s Eye View hotel.

Korra did not wait for the elevator, choosing instead dashing into the emergency staircase and airbending herself to the top floor. She wasn’t surprised to find no security outside the suite entrance and too anxious to care. A keypad was built into the wall to provide entrance, but Korra had never needed to learn the code. Instead, she knocked on the door, grinning at the tired voice asking her to wait a moment.

Asami had brushed hastily combed back her hair, but there was no hiding the exhaustion in those jade-colored eyes, dulling the shine usually found in them. She blinked, as if unsure who stood before her. Korra didn’t give her a chance to be sure before rushing forward to catch her fiancé’s lips within her own. “Surprise!”

“Wha-?” Asami’s question was interrupted by a yawn. “Am I dreaming? Last thing I remember was sitting at my desk and the words I was writing beginning to blur together. Did I fall asleep?”

“I don’t think you’d be asking if you are asleep if you actually were,” Korra joked. “Jeez, I come home to spend time with my girlfriend and she barely cares. Thanks a lot, Sami.”

“Why are you here?” Asami asked, her mind not sharp enough to return the banter. “Where’s Kuvira? Did something happen? She’s not here, is she?”

“I handled it.”

“How? When? She didn’t-”

“Sami,” Korra interrupted. “I handled it. Trust me.”

Asami rubbed her eyes again. Her smile was tired, but it was still the most beautiful smile Korra had ever seen. “I always trust you. And thank you.”

“Of course.”

Chapter Text

Of the many possibilities for who Kuvira would find standing in the hallway outside her room that afternoon, this was one she had never considered. Korra had told her nothing of who would come for her, only that she should stay in her room until they arrived.

“I know you won’t disappear,” Korra had said, “but it would be best not to give anyone reason to think otherwise.”

To that end, the Avatar had made arrangements with the Earth Kingdom’s local garrison to keep watch over Kuvira. She took no offense. Why would she unless she did have plans of vanishing? The soldiers did not stop her comings and goings, so long as she stayed within a reasonable distance of the inn she’d called home these past two days. One time she was drawn towards the sound of flute and drum near a gate; when a soldier barred her path, she apologized and returned back the way she came.

The sound drifted through her open windows, spirited but amateurish. It was enough to give Kuvira the rhythm she danced to when the knock on her door came. She strode confidently to the door, expecting some captain or lieutenant in Earth Kingdom green, perhaps even a metalbender. Even another airbender, while a surprise, would not have been as big a surprise as opening the door to find Opal standing in the hallway.

Wordlessly, Kuvira stepped back and to the side to allow the airbender entry. She was quick to close the door. A dozen greetings came to mind, and none of them were adequate. The first words between the two in eight years could not come from Kuvira. So she waited patiently while Opal closed the windows.

“Get dressed and pack whatever belongings you have,” the airbender said. Her voice was as emotionless as a stone wall. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

“Where are we going?” Kuvira asked.

“You don’t need to know. You just need to listen.”

Kuvira knew now was not the time to act. Opal’s entire body was tense, a weakened dam straining to contain her anger. To confront her now would only unleash a flood. Kuvira would need to wait until the raging torrent had reduced to a gentle stream.

Opal led the way outside, where a sky bison was saddled and waiting. Kuvira forced herself to swallow down her pity towards the poor creature. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, sickly green mucus ran from its nose, and its eyes were half-lidded and glassy. The bison looked on the verge of collapse. There was something familiar about it Kuvira could not place. She wondered if she’d seen one this sick before.

The bison turned and roared happily when it spotted Opal, and she scratched it beneath a horn, a smile cracking the impassionate façade she’d erected. “Juicy here will take us where we’re going. We’ll be there before sundown.”

“Is…he or she?”

“He.”

“Is he okay?”

Opal placed her hands on her slim waist. For the first time, Kuvira noticed she wasn’t so slim at all. She’d grown a woman’s curves in the last five years, and the many nights Opal spent complaining about her physique nearly brought a smile to Kuvira’s face. “You should know better than anyone. You’ve seen Juicy in action.”

She remembered no such thing, which only seemed to make Opal angrier. “I’m sorry.”

“Just shut up and get on.”

Despite its sickly appearance, the bison showed no disability as it carried them through the air. Kuvira clung tightly to the saddle, more helpless than she had ever felt in her life and simply wishing the ride to be over. She was in Opal’s element. It would be so easy for the woman she once called “sister” to simply drop her from the sky. Kuvira shook her head to clear the thought, wondering what it said about her that it had existed to begin with.

When the strain in Opal’s shoulders finally eased away, the metalbender decided to make her first attempt. “How is Baatar?”

There was no need to make clear which Baatar she asked about. “Heartbroken,” Opal mumbled sadly. She turned to Kuvira with tears in her eyes. “How could you do that to him?”

Kuvira did not answer. She had none.

“He still thinks about you. He doesn’t even realize he does it. He’ll be working on something with Dad and mention something you two had talked about building. During dinner he’ll talk about your favorite foods. When Mom practices with her dance troupe, Baatar always mentions how none of them are as good as you were.” Opal narrowed her eyes. “He deserved so much better than you, an evil witch who strung him along. We all deserved better than you.”

“Whatever you may think, I did love your brother.” Kuvira steeled herself. “And I loved your mother and father. I loved Wing, Wei, Huan, and you, Opal. You were my family.”

“Emphasis on ‘were,’” Opal said.

“Your mother is the one who wanted me dead, not the other way around. I wanted her to join me. I wanted her to lead me. My fight was hers.”

“You should have listened when she told you no.”

Kuvira nodded. “Maybe I should have.”

Opal’s face softened, surprised.

“I won’t say I was wrong. The Earth Kingdom was in chaos and needed someone to hold it together. I thought I could be that person. I know now I was not. When your mother told me not to go, maybe I should have listened, and I would have if she had gone, because I will forever insist that Suyin was the one who our nation needed in its darkest hour. She refused. Someone was needed, and if I was the best of the willing, I won’t apologize for going.”

Down below, Kuvira noticed the railway curving through the hills and rocky cliffs. Opal brought her bison to a halt but did not lower them to the ground, instead keeping them hovering above the railway. She stood and shook out her arms, the “wings” attached to her suit flapping noisily.

“Wait here. I won’t be long.”

Opal leaped from the saddle and into the sky. Her suit caught the wind, carrying her in a gentle descent. Kuvira watched in envy. She’d always admired airbending. Having mastered earth and metal under the tutelage of Suyin, she’d often wondered how much influence the culture had on the light steps and agile movements so unique to the older woman’s teachings. Kuvira had taken those teachings to heart. They’d saved her life countless times.

Watching Opal manipulate the air around her, every bit as graceful as her mother, Kuvira felt a familiar envy from many years ago, when the young girl’s airbending first manifested itself. So many had been disheartened. Baatar Sr. had mourned losing one of his two non-bending children. Suyin had desperately fought the inevitably of Opal leaving to join the other airbenders. Her siblings had resented her new abilities, and the way they distinguished her. Only Kuvira had greeted the news happily, sneaking a bottle of liquor for the two to enjoy late into the night. When Opal returned to the bison, Kuvira was not surprised to sense the newfound authority and confidence the young woman had earned through experience. She’d always been stronger than she appeared.

“Here’s the situation,” Opal said. “A sizable group of bandits has been ambushing the trains where the rail passes between two cliffs. We were planning on taking the entire group on, but we captured one of them and he gave up the location of their camp. If the two of us take down their leaders, it should disband them. You should be quite experienced with this.”

Kuvira nodded. Half the difficulties she faced while uniting the Earth Kingdom had involved bandits. No matter how many she and her forces arrested, there were always more corrupted spirits that aimed to take advantage of the chaos. Only enlisting them to her own purpose had stopped them. She wondered how long the airbenders and the Earth Kingdom army had fought the same fruitless battle.

Juicy landed on the far side of a tall, thick square of clay-colored rock jutting from the top of a steadily climbing slope. Kuvira bent an opening for her and Opal, shut it behind her, and led the way as she tunneled through the rock. Darkness swallowed them, but Kuvira did not need to see. Her bending gave her all the sight she needed. Opal kept the tips of her fingers on Kuvira’s back, enough to guide but too little to suggest a growing comfort in the metalbender’s presence.

Kuvira stopped them short of the far end of the makeshift tunnel, removed a boot, and closed her eyes, allowing the rock and dirt to sketch her surroundings. “There are about fifteen on the other side,” she said.

Opal stepped past Kuvira as the metalbender slipped her foot back into her boot. “I hope you can still fight.”

“I’ve had practice since prison.”

“Good.” A gentle cyclone of wind whipped at Kuvira’s clothing, growing stronger and stronger. “Let’s do it.”

Kuvira breathed deep and stomped her foot. The solid wall of rock in front of her cracked like a whip, breaking into floating sections, held together only by Kuvira’s steady hand. Opal needed no instruction. The cyclone rushed forward and carried the broken cliff wall with it. Through the funnel of rock, Kuvira could see poorly mended tents ripped from the ground and men in dirty rags running. She darted past Oval and began picking projectiles from the air to toss at the stunned bandits.

The funnel dissipated atop the largest tent still standing, crushing it flat. Opal jumped into the fight beside Kuvira with no hesitation. At first, the metalbender dedicated half her focus to making sure the younger airbender was safe. As she watched Opal avoid everything flung her way, light as the wind and strong as a typhoon, she realized her protection was entirely unnecessary and devoted her attention to her own wellbeing.

A tall, thin man with an overgrown blonde mop of hair obscuring his eyes nearly caught her off guard with a rolling boulder as tall as Kuvira was. She raised a ramp that sent it over her head. It was clear he was the leader; his demeanor was that of a man of experience, all calm eyes and loose muscle. The two exchanged volleys of rock while Opal cleaned up the others, finding they were evenly matched at range. Kuvira refused to consider the metal strips on her clothing. Not against one man, one helpless bandit.

She shattered a grouping of fist-sized rock and took advantage of the resulting dust cloud to close in on the bandit leader, where she knew she would have the advantage. By the time the dust cleared, it was too late. She easily avoided a lone projectile thrown in desperation, grabbed hold of the bandit’s arm and pulled him to a knee. He was too preoccupied with yanking free to defend himself against the column of earth that struck him in the chest. Four loose tent stakes stabbed through his clothing kept him restrained on his back.

When the battle was over, Kuvira walked through the camp, restraining those she and Opal had defeated within rock. The airbender sent up a flare to inform whatever soldiers waited nearby of their success. By now, some had recognized Kuvira. Including one Kuvira herself recognized, from a group that had once attacked her train five years earlier.

“You left us no choice,” the man spat. “When you surrendered, we were all hunted down. Most of us didn’t even know what was happening until we were attacked. What else were we supposed to do but go back to stealing?”

“Something else,” Kuvira said, devoid of sympathy. “Atone for your crimes.”

“You’re a monster,” the bandit said. “You’re a cruel, horrible person.”

Kuvira ignored the man and walked away.

Later, when the Earth Kingdom soldiers had arrived to take the defeated bandits away, Opal found the metalbender sitting alone beside the broken hole they’d emerged from at the beginning of their attack. “We’ll camp out here tonight and leave tomorrow,” she said. She began to walk away, but turned back. “And…don’t listen to that bandit from earlier. He was just making excuses.”

“I know. I feel no guilt over that man’s words. He was a bandit long before I entered his life.” Kuvira watched as Opal walked away. “Opal?”

The airbender turned around. “What?”

Her tone was still cold as steel. Kuvira had hoped for a thawing, but decided to press forward anyway, before the afterglow of their victory had faded entirely. “Shall we do this?”

Opal squinted, and then flushed angrily when comprehension dawned. “You tried to kill me! And my mother!”

“I did not. I did not know you were in that building.”

“You knew Baatar was in there!”

“I was on the precipice of total victory, and drunk off the prospect. My only target was the Avatar.”

“Who is also one of my closest friends! You nearly killed half the people I care about. You nearly killed Bolin.”

“And I am trying to repent. I am not that person anymore. I’m not asking for immediate forgiveness, Opal, but I need the people I care about to understand that I am not that woman anymore. I want my family back.”

Opal stepped forward and slapped the metalbender across the face. Kuvira accepted the sting, yet another step on the road to redemption. She would accept a thousand more if it meant she could earn her family back. “Korra told me you asked to be there when I was released into her custody. Why, if you hate me so much?”

“Because I wanted to see for myself who came out of that prison.” Opal knuckled angrily at a wet eye. “I want to believe you, Kuvira. I really want to believe you. But you nearly took everything from me, including my life. There’s nothing you can say that will make me feel better about that. I can’t promise I ever will.”

Kuvira stood. “I know.”

Opal moved closer. “Keep trying. Just keep trying. Please?”

“I will. Always.”

Opal stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the metalbender. It only lasted a moment, but it was like a deep, hungry breath after years without oxygen. Kuvira tried to rid the smile from her face before Opal saw, not wanting to ruin whatever progress she might have made, but the younger girl took no offense when she spotted it.

“It’s going to be harder for Mom and the others,” Opal said. “They haven’t spent most of a decade immersed in a culture of patience and forgiveness like I have. I don’t think they’ll ever really forgive you.”

Kuvira nodded. “That’s where I’ll need Korra’s help. If anyone can help mend that bridge, the Avatar can.” And more than anything, Kuvira hoped there was still a bridge left for Korra to mend.

Chapter Text

For the past few days, Korra actually remembered what it was like to be bored in the best way possible. She’d had too few boring days in her life. This was her own decision, of course. She was never one to prefer spending a day doing nothing. The Avatar had too many responsibilities to ever feel comfortable enjoying a boring day. If Korra wasn’t out solving the world’s problems, she was training. If she wasn’t training, she was attending political functions. The media was interviewing her, her friends were asking favors, she was sweating head to toe during therapy, or wracking her brain for the right words to pen for a letter. A boring, uneventful day was an alien concept that she quite frankly went out of her way to avoid.

Now, sprawled out on her fiancé’s couch, goofy smile on her face while the smell of frying vegetables wafted from the kitchen and made her mouth water, she had to admit her opinion on boring, do nothing days had changed dramatically.

It would be downright selfish not to appreciate these chances. Korra and Asami lived lives far too hectic to receive many of them. Of the four days passed since she returned to Republic City, Asami had only managed one away from her office. Which was perfectly fine. It was enough to have nights, for Korra to see for herself that Asami was getting a restful six hours in a bed. Well, mostly restful, the Avatar thought with a cocky smirk.

“That smells fantastic,” Asami said, walking by with a towel still drying her wet hair. “Uh huh,” she responded dumbly.

“I figured we could use a home-cooked meal for once, even though none of us are cooking it. Not exactly our strong suit.”

“Uh huh.”

Asami rolled her eyes. “I had a boyfriend once who used to love to cook, as long as we ate the food off each others’ bodies.”

Korra sat up. “Why would you tell me that?”

“Just making sure you were paying attention.”

The servant, a nice young woman named Kyo whose family had been in the employ of the Satos for some two decades, brought their meals out to the apartment’s modest dining room, a round table big enough for four people to sit at. Korra took her seat while Asami dismissed the servant with a smile and a generous tip. She was happy to see the servant go. The long years in Asami’s life had never made Korra comfortable with people whose job consisted of doing the things she should be doing, and while Asami had grown up around servants, she was too much a self-made person to rely too greatly on them.

“One more night,” Asami sighed, picking disinterestedly at her meal. “Mere hours to think of an excuse not to go to Ba Sing Se. Have I made it clear how much I hate that city?”

“Uh huh,” Korra said, shoving in mouthfuls too quick to savor the taste. It couldn’t be too bad if she wasn’t gagging.

She didn’t like the Earth Kingdom capital anymore than Asami did. It was hot, cramped, noisy, and completely out of balance. They were making strides to be sure, and that was all that could be done, but the city was still a mockery of equality, so much so it caused a literal pain that began deep in the pit of her stomach and spread until Korra felt it banging against her ribs and grabbing at her heart. Blinding herself by staying in the palace had done no good. There was no blinding the filthy smoke rising over the walls or the memories in her head.

“We’ll get to see Mako, anyway,” she said. “And maybe Bolin. I didn’t think to ask Opal whether he’d be in Ba Sing Se or not.”

Inevitably, Opal’s name triggered thoughts of the woman Korra had asked her to watch over and whether the gamble had blown up in her face or not. Korra figured that no news about Kuvira was good news.

“You made the right decision,” Asami said immediately, ever the mind reader. She’d always known what to say to assuage the fears in Korra’s mind, ever since they met, and her ability had only grown since they became a couple. “I’m not just saying that so you don’t worry. I trust your instincts, Korra. You should trust them, too. They’re the right instincts more often than they’re wrong.”

Korra blushed, stupidly. Asami always did her best to buff Korra’s confidence. “I know. I really don’t want to talk about Kuvira, though. I want to hit the town with my girl and forget all the responsibilities we have. Pretend we’re just a couple of nobodies.”

Asami smiled, ruby lips framing pearly whites. Her hair was still messy and damp, and it only made her more beautiful. “That sounds like fun!”

Of course it did. Korra may not be the best at reading people, but she knew how to read Asami.

Their night out, like most their nights out, was simple and quiet. Asami’s work surrounded her with loud noise and voices, she had no desire to willingly seek more on her off time. And Korra had grown up with the quiet. She and it were old friends. Sometimes the two would wear their best, over paint their faces, and hit Republic City’s night spots before coming home to fall in bed for everything except sleep. Too many nights required them to attend lavish parties among the rich and powerful, false smiles burning their cheeks and inane conversation melting their brains. Tonight, they wanted to enjoy the silence together.

They walked hand in hand through Avatar Korra Park, its namesake sheepishly keeping her eyes away from the statue erected at its center. They pulled their hoods up to obscure their faces while watching the trains come and go from Central City Station. They traversed the Spirit Wilds and circled the flattened approach to the Spirit Portal at its center, wishing more than anything to step into it again. The moon reached its apex and began its fall, unnoticed by either woman. Asami was the one to suggest they go home, when the moon had slipped beneath the towering vines at their backs; she was the practical half, ever tempering the outlandish and focusing it back into reality. She smiled and went along anyway when Korra pleaded for them to wait a little while longer.

Both paid the price the next morning, their eyes puffy and barely open as their boat split the waves, occasionally splashing an ineffective spray of water onto their faces. Air Temple Island loomed ahead, with two Future Industries airships floating above the docks. A mass of bodies and flashing cameras stood assembled on the dock.

A sharp gust whipped Korra’s hair across her eyes, and she caught flash of crimson when she looked up. Exhaustion fled her eyes when she noticed the identical chocolate colored locks covering the heads of the two airbenders who soared past. She hooted loudly, and waved when Ikki and Meelo looked back.

Meelo was the first to land on the boat, as he was always the first to do anything. It was hard to believe how he’d grown since Tenzin first landed at the Southern Water Tribe so many years ago. He was all thin, long limbs and lean muscle, at his full height already of an eye level with Korra. It was looking more likely by the day that Meelo would one day tower above even his father.

Ikki followed, a giddy, bubbly girl who was cursed not only as a middle child and second daughter, but also with her mother’s height. What she did have was charisma; Ikki was the glue of Tenzin’s children, able to con and charm and threaten and seduce where necessary to keep the family strong through the worst of arguments. This made her too talkative at times, but Korra was happy when she began chattering away.

“It’s so great to see you! I was so angry when Mom told me you had already visited while I was away! I thought I wasn’t going to get to see you, do you have to leave right away? Mom’s been teaching me how to cook her dumplings. We could cook some for you to take with you!”

“Shut up, Ikki,” Meelo said. “I have important business to discuss with the Avatar.”

Korra laughed, snuck a glance at Asami, and laughed all the harder at the exasperation on her face.

“So I hear you asked Opal to watch over Kuvira,” the young airbender said. “Not a bad choice, Opal is a good airbender, but I’m clearly better.”

“Of course,” Korra said, reaching up a hand to ruffle Meelo’s grown out hair, which now fell to his shoulders. It was only half a joke; Meelo was a vastly talented bender. “But I didn’t know you wanted that responsibility so much. Next time I’ll keep you mind, okay?”

The boat docked, and Ikki glided off to the kitchen, promising to have those mentioned dumplings ready before Korra left. Meelo leaped off the boat, shouting for the mob of journalists to make way for the Avatar.

“That was the last thing we needed,” Asami said with a sigh.

The fourth and youngest of Tenzin’s children dashed skillfully between the close-pressed bodies assembled on the docks as easily as he navigated the airbending gates. At nine years old, Rohan was quickly growing into a combination of his brother and eldest sister; he was a quiet, reflective boy, with a natural tendency towards the spiritual not quite matching Jinora’s and great skill as a bender. Surprisingly, it was Asami the boy gravitated to. He was different from his siblings that way.

After Asami had knelt to hug the boy, Rohan bowed respectfully towards Korra. “Hi,” he said sheepishly.

“Hello, Rohan,” Korra greeted cheerfully. “Still trying to steal my girl away? We’re going to have to settle this one day.”

The youngest airbender’s cheeks burned bright, and he quickly backed away when his parents separated through the crowd. Unfortunately, the flashing bulbs had been directed Korra’s way now. She did her best to ignore them while hugging both Pema and Tenzin. A few more streaks of gray peppered their hair, but otherwise they looked the same as ever.

“It is a pleasure to see you, Avatar Korra,” Tenzin spouted deep and officially. The smiling crinkle beside his eyes was anything but official. “And you, Ms. Sato.”

Asami shook his hand officially, as befit the leader of the Air Nation and the CEO of the most powerful corporation in the world. There was no hiding the smile in her eyes, either. And she was quick to hug Pema.

President Hanago strode forward for his photo opportunities, the air between him and Asami icy as ever. Korra briskly answered a few questions and posed for a few photos. The airships lowered their ramps, the various Republic City officials boarded, Tenzin kissed his wife and children goodbye before doing the same, and Korra hugged them all before boarding alongside Asami. On a separate airship than the President, of course.

Only when the ramps shut did Korra let out the breath she held. “Still frosty with Hanago, huh?” she asked Asami.

“Just like all the others, he thinks I’m gunning for his job.” Asami blew out a frustrated sigh. “As if that’s something I’d want, to set aside the company I love and all my interests in life for politics. What’s worse, the pressure around me might force me into running some day.”

Tenzin placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “I know better than anyone how life pressures a person down a certain path. Know that no matter what you choose, you will always have the support of me and my family, for what that is worth.”

Asami smiled. Free of the media and their judgment, she no longer hesitated to hug Tenzin. He and Pema could never replace her parents, but they had tried as best as they could to be there for her, and Korra could never repay that sort of kindness.

A flash of crimson landed on the exterior walkway of the airship, and Ikki hurried inside. “I brought you your dumplings,” she said, handing over a ball of cloth tied to a stick. Steam still poured from the opening at the top. “And this, as you asked, Korra.”

The glider was larger than Korra’s previous one, more in line with the glider Tenzin had owned before the invention of their suits. She took it from Ikki with a hug and thanks. The wings spread out larger than any glider she’d ever seen, even wider than the suit flaps hanging loose at Tenzin’s side. Perfect, Korra thought.

“Why did you ask for a glider?” Asami asked.

“Come with me,” Korra said, grabbing her fiancé’s hand. “I’ll show you.”

The sea breeze was strong so high up, a welcome reassurance. Korra swung the open glider behind her and pulled Asami close. “Remember when you said you wanted to know what it was like to fly like an airbender? Hang tight.”

“No.” Asami clung tight around Korra’s neck anyway.

A burst of air lifted them to the sky, eliciting a frightened squeal from the non-bender. Korra resisted the urge to dive bomb and put a real scare in her. They followed alongside the airship for a time. Occasionally Korra would bend them closer to a flock of birds, or speed them past the windows of the other airship. Asami’s nervousness vanished into the wind, and soon she was giving suggestions, which quickly developed into orders Korra was happy to follow.

“Much better than being stuck on an airship, isn’t it?”

Asami pressed dry, chapped lips to Korra’s cheek. “Much better.” Her grin was wide and mischievous. “How far ahead do you think we can get?”

Korra’s own grin was just as wide. “Only one way to find out.”

Chapter Text

Flashing gold in the midday sun, the highest point of the Royal Palace at Ba Sing Se remained a constant no matter where you stood within the Upper Ring, a point of focus and the guide by which one navigated the wide streets, busy streets. Kuvira watched the tip gleam from the backyard of the home serving as her prison, sipping disinterestedly at the cup of tea in her hands. She had seen the shadows overtake it the previous evening, as the sun set the night alongside her arrival within the inner walls surrounding the Upper Ring. She had seen it years earlier when she arrived in Ba Sing Se with a small force of metalbenders at her side.

Kuvira had never set foot inside the palace. Even on the day of her victory, when her metalbenders marched through the richly furnished halls to pull the last of the weeds stubbornly clinging within, she’d remained outside in the courtyard with her back turned. The palace, and the entire Upper Ring, was a sickness that wormed down the throat and marked a person forever. It paled the skin and softened muscle. It painted ugly scars across your cheeks.

Even those opportunists who’d taken Ba Sing Se following Queen Hou-Ting’s death had transformed during their short reign. Many had yet to finish scrubbing the dirt from their skin before donning stolen silks and jewelry. They had invoked a false authority when Kuvira and her soldiers climbed the walls, even as they stood bloody-handed over the bodies of a victim. It was all wrong, this monument to extravagance. Kuvira had asked if it was possible to remain in the Lower Ring until this business in the palace had finished. She’d predictably been denied.

A hand scrabbled for purchase atop the walls surrounding the property, and Kuvira jumped silently to her feet, in a fighting stance well before a second hand appeared. Familiar black shoes preceded familiar beige trousers and the tail end of a long, green and black tunic. The shaved back of a familiar head stared up at the top of the wall just scaled.

“How did you find me?” Kuvira asked.

“Your presence here is no secret,” Baatar said. His face was as clean-shaven as his head. “It’s all the talk among the nobles.”

“Of course it is.” Kuvira had no delusions of secrecy. A sky bison had delivered her, and Earth Kingdom soldiers standing guard outside the front gates of an Upper Ring home was a unique circumstance. And of course the Royal Palace was a nest of whispering snakes. She’d be surprised if the entire city was not aware of her presence.

Baatar stared silently, his face a constant argument; smiles fought with frowns, his eyes narrowed and widened, his fingers twitched endlessly. Neither took a step any closer to the other. Unlike with Opal, Kuvira could not let the first words spoken between her and Baatar come from him. She owed him that much for the wounds she’d inflicted.

“I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to see you again,” Kuvira said. “Korra told me you wished to be there when I was released, and I assumed if she could not make such an arrangement, no one would. I figured the odds too great to hope you’d find me on your own.” Her smile was more suggestion than fact. “I should have known better to underestimate you. Too many have, and I once swore to you I would never make that mistake.”

“It wasn’t long ago I swore I never wanted to see you again,” Baatar said bitterly. “Thinking back to when we left Zaofu, the words you spoke to convince me to go with you, I wondered if I was just another pawn. If you ever cared about me as a brother, or even a friend. Never mind as a man you loved and were willing to marry.”

The words were five years of his mother’s influence. “And do you believe I used you?”

Baatar met her gaze. “I wouldn’t be here if I did.”

He still believed in her. The knowledge meant even more than Kuvira thought it would. He’d been the first to side with her after the defeat of the Red Lotus. He’d been at her side every step of the way. Baatar had never doubted her, never questioned her, and never wavered in his loyalty. Perhaps that was what drove them apart towards the end. They’d never questioned each others’ motives or methods, and had delved too far into the darkness behind them. In that most of all, only Baatar could truly relate with Kuvira. They’d both left Zaofu with chips on their shoulders that grew too large and crushed their good intentions, towards the Earth Kingdom and each other.

“I suppose your family is here alongside your mother for this conference in the palace,” Kuvira said.

“Yes.”

“And they know I’m here.”

“Yes.” Baatar grinned. “Mother and Father would be so angry if they found out I visited you.”

Perhaps the chips on their shoulders had not dissolved entirely. Kuvira fought not to frown.

“Wait here,” she said. “I’ll pour us some tea.”

The golden glow of the palace tip faded as the sun descended from its peak. Kuvira and Baatar spent hours reliving old memories of their childhood together in Zaofu. They laughed over Huan’s various hairdos. They remembered Baatar’s insistence on fighting alongside Kuvira when Wei and Wing challenged her to a fight. They fondly remembered the day shy girl Opal used to be, and how proud they both were of the woman she’d become. Neither discussed the parents who’d raised them. The wound was too deep, and neither wished to tear the scab and bleed over the joy they felt. The more they spoke, the easier it was to remember how they’d become such friends as children and why’d gravitated towards each other against the backdrop of war.

Sometimes, when a silence descended, Kuvira would notice how Baatar stared wide-eyed and frowning at the roofs of homes surrounding them, unwillingly reliving old memories. Ba Sing Se had changed them both.

Kuvira had seen much in her time in Zaofu’s City Guard, both as a grunt and in command. She’d seen bandits of every element, non-benders, and armies. The march to the capital had brought her into conflict with unruly mobs of desperate citizens and broken towns. She’d thought herself prepared for whatever challenges Ba Sing Se posed.

“I hate this city,” Baatar said. Flames and death of long ago still burned brightly in his eyes.

“So do I,” Kuvira agreed. She rubbed habitually at a scar beneath her sleeve. “It seems a lifetime ago that we assembled outside the walls, expecting to be greeted as saviors. I suppose it was a lifetime ago.”

“Despite everything Mother had taught me growing up, I never understood why she hated the monarchy so much before that day. To see what its downfall had done to its people was hard, but I never felt more confident that we were doing the right thing.”

The Lower Ring had long ago burned to the ground when they arrived. Thousands of graves had been dug outside the city, and shovels digging fresh ones stopped when Kuvira led her army past the broken outer wall. It was impossible to tell rich from poor or good from evil. Gems glittered on the fingers of unwashed, poorly dressed commoners. Richly garbed nobles begged on the streets. Kuvira felt the blades watching her as she marched to the monorail.

The Agrarian zone was a scorched wasteland, no crop left on its farms but ash. Still, she held out hope that some form of functioning government remained behind the Inner Wall, some remnant of order among the Earth Kingdom’s armies. She’d held out that hope even as the first boulders fell upon the monorail tracks. An army had waited for Kuvira’s army behind the Inner Wall, but it had met them with hatred and violence.

She was distracted from her memories when a shadow swept over the grass. She looked up, expecting to see a cloud, but instead saw the fading silhouette of manmade wings gliding towards the palace. Two airships followed closely behind, the gear logo of Future Industries emblazoned upon their side. More performers for the drama. She’d seen many arrive the past two days. Fire Nation airships, more advanced than any she’d ever seen. Steam rose over the walls from Water Tribe ships. Airbenders and their sky bison. Loud voices shouting to make way for representatives from Omashu, Kyoshi Island, Makapu, and every notable town throughout the nation.

“I should go before it’s too late,” Baatar said, rising from his chair. He’d stayed overlong already, and Kuvira was grateful. She followed him towards the wall. “We’ll probably leave tonight or tomorrow morning. I won’t see you again anytime soon.”

“Much as I might wish to see you again, it wouldn’t be a good idea,” Kuvira said. She offered her hand. “Friends?”

Baatar clasped it tightly, but warmly. It was the first connected links in repairing their relationship. “Of course.” And with that he leapt back over the wall.

Kuvira collected up the tea set, poured out the cold contents, and headed inside.

Chapter Text

"Here you go, Sami."

The Future Industries CEO took the cup of juice carefully into her hands, smiling gratefully. "Thanks."

"It's the least I can do," Korra said. "Not like I'm much help in there."

It was only midday, but exhaustion enough for the dead of night had crept into the Avatar's body. And Asami's too, by the looks of her frown. The juice seemed to help a little. She'd always preferred it over any other beverage when engaged in a tense negotiation, and there was no mistaking today's proceedings as anything but a tense negotiation.

Others passed on their way back into the sprawling council chamber hosting King Wu's many important guests that day. The various representatives of the major Earth Kingdom towns and cities returned first, determined to present themselves with the same importance as their foreign counterparts. They dressed in the expected forest greens of their nation with symbols identifying their towns sewed upon them; King Shoma of Omashu outdid them all, his crown so heavy Korra figured it would probably send her tumbling to the ground. The King looked to be no more than forty-years old, yet the crown had him hunched like Sifu Katara.

President Hanago and Tenzin were next to walk by. Tenzin nodded towards Korra and Asami, a reserved smile on his face, but the President barely saw fit to glance their way. Bumi followed, grinning wildly with his chest puffed out. No one had been more surprised than him about his invitation to the Royal Palace, but Wu had insisted that a "former General of the United Forces and brother of the Air Nation leader" be present.

Fire Lord Izumi strode by in a swirl of crimson silk, her golden hair piece alive in the torchlight, with a scurrying gaggle of assistants at her tail. Her narrowed eyes stared straight ahead. The heavily painted women of the Kyoshi Warriors kept their distance as they followed, their armor clattering with every step. Korra smiled and nodded at each in turn. She wondered if her admiration of the warriors was due to some lingering connection to Kyoshi herself.

Korra's father and cousins were the last to make their way to the chamber. Desna and Eska were droopy-faced as always, and of course walked by without a word.

"What are you two still doing out here?" Tonraq asked, after he'd hugged Korra and Asami, of course.

Korra snorted and rolled her eyes. "Dad, when have I ever wanted to sit in a room listening to people argue over stuff that doesn't matter?"

"About as much as I have," he answered with a booming laugh. "I'm surprised you're here at all."

"So am I. But, you know, I'm the Avatar. Master of Elements, bridge between spirits and human, keeper of balance and all that. I'm not a kid anymore and I have to be there when the leaders of the world convene in a single location." Korra smiled over at Asami. "Thankfully, I have help."

Asami blushed, as ever tongue-tied and unsure of herself around Tonraq. It never stopped proving fascinating.

"That you do," Tonraq said. "Keep it up, Asami."

"Yes, sir," she said.

Together, the three stepped into the council chamber to the buzzing of a dozen separate murmured conversations. King Wu stood at the head of the long, intricately carved table, engaged in conversation with the Omashu King and Varrick. Everyone else sat to either side of length of the table and spoke to their neighbors. The Fire Lord was the only one to avoid the contagious buzzing. She sat quietly and studiously, amber eyes watching the others with the stone face of an expert card player.

Korra took her seat, immediately hating it, with her father to her left and Asami to her right. Suyin sat across from the Avatar, appearing as if she had not moved since Korra left the room. A half-hearted nod was only recognition the Zaofu leader offered. Kuvira's release was still a sore spot paining their relationship.

Suyin's expression only hardened further when the murmurs faded and Wu called the meeting back into session, insisting they continue the discussion they'd postponed before lunch. Korra swallowed a groan. Wu had grown a lot since taking his throne, and she greatly supported his further attempts to establish a democratic Earth nation, but he was still a bumbling idiot when it came to people and their moods.

"Why does this burden fall upon me?" Suyin asked, scowling. "Why not bother Future Industries the way you bother me? Why not ask the Fire Nation to share their technology? We all saw the airship Fire Lord Izumi arrived in. It's more advanced than anything Zaofu possesses, and I'm sure the same can be said about much of her nation. So why am I, who already saw so much stolen from her city when Kuvira betrayed me, the one who has to give even more?"

"Because you're an Earth Kingdom citizen," King Shoma said, his crown nearly weighing his chin to the table's surface. "Your city is a part of our nation, like it or not, and you agreed to take part in the council King Wu established!"

"I have been very generous with my company's technology," Asami said, falling into the argument easily. Korra had to fight to keep her smile away, as ever in awe of her fiancé's strength and ease among so much of the world's power, as if there was no question she belonged in that room. "I have denied nothing I thought necessary to the recovery of the Earth Kingdom."

"As have I!" Varrick shouted. He leaned back in his chair. "And believe me, they had to tear it from my cold, dead fingers!"

"The United Republic has shared in this burden as well, even though we are no longer part of the Earth Kingdom," President Hanago chimed in.

Korra did not listen to the repeated arguments, instead watching the Fire Lord sit patiently, taking in every word, and Suyin, her eyes narrowing and her frown deepening with every word spoken against her. "Fine!" she eventually shouted, raising her hands. "I'll discuss this later with the other leaders on the council. We'll come to some sort of agreement."

King Wu smiled triumphantly, though he hadn't said a word. Knowing what she knew about the way he operated, Korra doubted this had even been his idea. She admired the guy for knowing his limits but he took entirely too much credit and had far too much self-satisfaction over plans that came from those around him.

The meeting continued long into the afternoon and covered a lot of topics Korra had little business being a part of; numbers and deployments for the troops the Fire Nation had lent to help fight the bandits plaguing the nation, reports on the trade lanes the Water Tribe oversaw, disputes over the redrawing of boundaries between cities, the continued efforts to repair the damage done to the Swamp, on and on they argued. Korra would offer an opinion when asked, always forced to swallow her nervousness. She'd never grown comfortable in this setting. She was a woman for one on one discussion in private settings, where she didn't have to pick and choose her words.

A second recess was called come evening, and the dignitaries in the room stood to make their way over to the dining chamber further within the Palace. Asami squeezed Korra's hand before leaving alongside Varrick and Tonraq. Korra wished she could have gotten a kiss, at least on the cheek, but she knew this wasn't the setting for such gestures. The Avatar soon found herself alone in the chamber with Suyin and Fire Lord Izumi, who spoke in hushed voices. Despite the wrinkles lining both women's faces, Korra had never seen a pair so regal.

"Avatar," the Fire Lord greeted when Korra approached. Her voice, much like her appearance, was pure authority. "I admit to some surprise at finding you here today. The way I understood it, you aren't one for such occasions."

"Maybe not, but I am the Avatar." Korra met those studious amber eyes. "And while you all decide on what actions to take, I'm often the one who actually takes them."

"And those actions we may not have taken," Izumi said. "How has your premature release of Kuvira panned out so far?"

Suyin narrowed her eyes. Korra ignored her. "Very well. She's been a great help in fighting the bandits and rebuilding the towns we've visited. I am keeping her closely watched, however, I can assure you."

"Good." Izumi looked over to the silver-haired metalbender beside her. "Mrs. Beifong has expressed strong disagreement over your decision. She seems to believe Kuvira will betray you at some point. I'm glad she has been of help, the Earth Kingdom can most certainly use it."

Suyin excused herself and stormed off.

"Yes it can," Korra said.

She stared back as Izumi's eyes continued to observe and collect information. Many of Asami's business partners were like this, every word and every movement seemingly planned out in a way to test Asami and determine her worth. Korra wondered what worth the Fire Lord considered her to be. She hated this little dance.

"I suppose we should join the others for dinner," Izumi finally said, smiling politely. Korra wished she knew if that was good or bad.

Dinner itself was an extension of their meeting. Everyone took proper, dainty bites off their plates, if they ate at all. Whatever conversations council neighbors had murmured to each other continued as if never interrupted. Asami described an advancement Republic City's sewage system to Korra's father, while he smiled and followed along with full attention. Korra loved her parents so much for that. They had given Asami the expected nonsense about never hurting their daughter and done so with barely any conviction behind the words. Otherwise, they treated Asami as if she was a daughter they'd created. Korra made a note to visit her mother as soon as possible.

Dozens of utensils clattered on plates simultaneously when the doors banged open. A member of the Royal Guard hurried into the room and up to King Wu, whispering frantically in his ear. Korra, like everyone else at the table, craned their necks to try and hear. Wu's face paled, and his skinny arms began to tremble. Korra didn't wait to hear. She knocked her chair back and followed a pair of Royal Guards sprinting down the hallway outside the dining room, ignoring Asami and her father's shouts.

The palace seemed darker. Korra held a ball of flame in her hand to light the way. Water Tribe warriors and Fire Nation officers hurried past Korra towards those they were charged to protect. At some point, the Royal Guards had lost Korra, and she came to a dead end she did not recognize. She was still deciding which direction to run when two shadows descended from the ceiling.

Both were cloaked in black from neck to toe, with red hoods pulled over their heads. Cruel mouths frowned deeply. "Avatar," one whispered. He pulled water from a flask at his waist and whipped at Korra's face.

She ducked and swept her leg, sending a crescent of wind at their feet. One of the two intruders jumped but the other was too slow to avoid being knocked down. The close quarters made dealing with them simple. Neither could match Korra's power, and she never relented in her attack, shooting flames and air at the two of them while easily dispatching their own attempts at offense. Whenever one regained his feet, the other fell. The shorter of the two rushed forward, perhaps hoping to have the advantage up close, and Korra delivered a stiff kick to his ribs. She had to give them some respect. Neither gave up.

She had just dispatched them and bound their hands and feet with metal strips ripped from the wall when a multitude of footsteps rumbled along the carpet behind her. Korra turned, ready to fight, and only relaxed when she saw that Suyin, Asami, her father, and Fire Lord Izumi were not being chased. Asami let out a long breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Korra said. "Takes better than a couple stooges to beat me."

"Who are they?"

Korra turned and looked down. There was nothing on their clothing to identify them. They'd bent different elements. Korra knew who they were, though. She'd never forget. "They're Red Lotus."

Suyin gasped. Asami bit her lip. Tonraq frowned. Izumi was calm as ever, revealing nothing. "If they're attacking in force," the Fire Lord said, "then they are after everyone in our meeting today. They must have planned for this opportunity to find us all in one place."

"So what do we do?" Suyin asked. "Gather everyone in one place and hold them off?"

"Forget that!" Korra shouted. "I'm not hiding and letting these bozos think I'm afraid!"

"The best of our guard are keeping watch over the others, as are Tenzin, his brother, and the Kyoshi Warriors," Izumi said. There was a dangerous glow to her eyes like Korra had never seen, and a somber regret to the slight downward curve of her lips. "I'm with the Avatar. I say we take the fight to them."

Asami nodded. "I'm always with Korra."

"So am I," Tonraq said.

Suyin shrugged, looking quite happy herself. "Then let's do it."

They ran through the empty palace, towards the increasingly loud sound of fighting. The double doors leading into the throne room were wide open, and a prone Red Lotus member lay motionless beside an equally prone Dai Li agent. Korra refused to think about whether they were dead or not as she sprinted down the main hall towards the entrance.

She'd nearly reached the end when the entrance doors flew open, and a glaring red light poured into the dark. Korra set herself into a fighting stance, while Suyin tossed metal strips attached to her belt at the unfocused silhouettes outside. The projectiles were deflected before they reached their target.

"Peace!" a familiar voice called. "We're allies!"

Korra relaxed. They were dressed in Earth Kingdom green, and the woman leading them stepped forward. "Kuvira? What are you doing here?"

"Is this your doing?" Suyin hissed.

Kuvira shook her head. "Absolutely not. Is everyone safe inside the palace?"

"Yes," Izumi said, stepping forward. "What's the situation?"

"Under control outside the palace." Kuvira took a deep breath. "I cannot say the same for the rest of the city."

Chapter Text

Standing in the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se, again watching a layer of thick, black smoke from countless unseen fires settle blanket the city in the aftermath of battle, with an army of earthbenders at her back, Kuvira felt a familiarity like slipping into well worn boots. She’d stood in much the same position eight years prior. Many of the same buildings burned; that poor soup shop in the Eastern Square was a blackened skeleton again, as were the row of vegetable stalls in the marketplace and the two hotels opposite each other on the main throughway. Citizens imprisoned in stone hung their heads in defeat.

Surprisingly, Kuvira found familiarity to feel a little too familiar.

The fight had been good. Kuvira had always thought herself born for command, and it had not taken her long to slip back into the role. With soldiers at her back, again subduing a Ba Sing Se fallen into chaos, a fleeting shadow of the triumph she’d felt eight years prior had darkened her mind. She had felt strong. She had felt in control, for the first time since leaving her cell. She felt a dangerous pride. And now, seeing the broken, humiliated faces of those who had again failed to take control of the city, she felt empty. She felt pity towards those she had fought that day, and regret over their manipulation.

Because, as expected, the Red Lotus had not stayed around to assist in the uprising they had begun. They were cowards. Violent opportunists who prodded their spears at you from the shadows but broke in the face of resistance. Anarchists seeking chaos and death under the false illusion of freedom. An illusion Kuvira knew well.

Seeing Suyin standing in the Main Hall beside the Avatar had also been familiar. As had the metal strips flung Kuvira’s way, much quicker than those days spent training in the courtyards of Zaofu. In that moment, with an army at her back, resentment had sparked behind her eyes and curled her lips into a frown. Every rehearsed apology born in the darkness of a cell had slipped away to join the smoke curling into the sky. Su’s accusation only deepened the chasm between them. Thankfully, Korra and the others beside her had been quick to move past the tension before it came to blows.

The roar of fire above Kuvira’s head sprung her into a fighting stance, but she relaxed when she recognized the crimson silk covering the flame’s origin from neck to foot. Fire Lord Izumi had been deep in the fighting that day, yet she looked for all the world as if she had never seen action in her life; not a single hair was out of place, her robe was freshly clean, and the hair piece signifying her rule shone brilliantly, even in the unnatural shadow of war muting the sun. She landed in a marketplace ahead without the slightest stumble, as if she’d descended a staircase from the sky rather than simply fell from it, and began snuffing the fires engulfing a row of stalls.

Kuvira strode forward to meet her, stopping a few feet short and clasping her hands behind her back, chin held high. The Fire Lord extinguished the last of the fires and turned towards the metalbender, her amber eyes as every analyzing. “We’ve restored order in the southwest quadrant,” Kuvira said. “No sign of any Red Lotus. Not since the palace.”

“There won’t be,” the Fire Lord said. Her Guard hurried to her side from an alley where they‘d presumably followed. “They’ve scattered back into their holes and it would be no easy task to burn them out. Let us regroup with the others and see if they’ve had more luck.”

The two women walked side by side back towards the Middle Ring, and followed a trail of imprisoned citizens and wrecked streets to Ba Sing Se University. Kuvira couldn’t help but sneak glances at the immensely powerful firebender at her side. The metalbender knew she was a powerful bender, one of the most powerful in the world. There was no one besides the Avatar herself that Kuvira feared, and no one else she did not consider herself a match for. After watching Izumi fight, she thought perhaps there would be good reason to fear the Fire Lord.

Kuvira had hurried to help Izumi when she saw her alone on the streets, surrounded by ten Red Lotus benders. Three rushed while Kuvira still ran, and the metalbender saw how unneeded her help was. Those three were knocked back by a whip of blue flame. Izumi effortlessly dodged stone, air, and fire before taking down three more with a wall of fire that towered tall as the surrounding buildings. A subtle sweep of the leg, more in line with an earthbending movement, produced an arc of flame as sharp as a curved sword that tripped those few still standing. Two more jumped from a roof behind her and she flew backwards before they landed, grabbed their wrists, and flipped them to the ground.

In that moment, Kuvira thought perhaps the Fire Lord was a woman even she should fear.

The gate beneath the square archway leading from the street to the courtyard of Ba Sing Se University had been ripped from its hinges and lay bent in half on the ground. Suyin, her twin sons, Korra’s mountain of a father, and a couple dozen Earth Kingdom soldiers stood in a loose circle outside the main building. The Fire Lord and Kuvira were hurrying their way when a tall women in black robes and a bright red mask broke through a second floor window, her entire body twitching, before landing on the stone below.

Wei and Wing were the first to notice Kuvira. They were quick to alert their mother, of course. Freedom, Kuvira thought. They didn’t look so free to her.

She stayed at the Fire Lord’s side, stopping only when Izumi stopped, a few feet away from those assembled in the courtyard. The doors to the University burst open and the Avatar strutted out with a bound Red Lotus member on both of her broad shoulders. Ms. Sato pushed another behind her. The Kyoshi Warriors also followed, leading a group of ten restrained by a length of roped tying their arms at their sides. One of the face-painted women broke from the others to collect the masked woman who fell through the window.

“Piece of cake,” Korra said, her grin oblivious to the tension creating towering cliffs between Kuvira and Suyin. She looked towards the younger of the metalbenders and the woman at her side. “How about you two? Find anything?”

“Nothing,” Izumi said. “Though it appears you had some success. Was it necessary to throw one of them from a window?”`

Ms. Sato grinned and blushed, and the Kyoshi Warriors laughed aloud. “I didn’t want to take the risk,” Asami said.

“Since when do we care so much about the wellbeing of terrorists?” Korra asked with a sneer. Again, she appeared oblivious to the cold stare Suyin leveled at Kuvira. “Let’s get these scumbags to the Dai Li.”

With the fight over, Kuvira was returned to her home, and given different guards. She was again left with no army, no gratitude, and a prison. She’d often sought solitude in the aftermath of battle during the unification of her Earth Empire. Such was the only time she’d been allowed a moment to breathe in deep and relax, with nothing demanding her immediate attention. The captured would still be in route to their prisons. Her army would be tended to by medics. The mechs and tanks would return to the mechanics for servicing. Maps and future destinations could wait. Kuvira had treasured those quiet moments after battle. It was the only quiet allowed to her.

Now, she’d have given anything to not be alone. She’d had enough of quiet and solitude. They had been her only companion for five years.

Korra arrived much sooner than Kuvira had hoped. Dust still battered her clothing from the fight, and a dark-gray smudge ran the width of her forehead. She didn’t seem to care in the least. “So this is what happens when I have someone else take care of you, huh? Lesson learned.”

Somehow, Kuvira found a smile. “I’d say things worked out well.”

“Yeah, right.” Korra flopped onto the floor, legs crossed beneath her. “Promise you won’t get mad?”

“What?”

“Just promise you won’t be angry.”

What difference did it make? What could Kuvira possibly do, even if she was angered? “I promise.”

Korra chewed at her bottom lip. “I wasn’t sure what you were going to do today. Almost the entire time I spent fighting, I was worried you were either going to run or rally whoever you could behind you, and I’d end up having to fight you. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I haven’t earned your full trust, I understand. Hopefully today helped prove my sincerity.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Avatar,” Kuvira interrupted. “Korra, please. I’m not the least bit offended.”

A knock at the door jolted Korra to her feet. One of the guards posted outside hurried in, shutting the door behind him, and began whispering in the Avatar’s ear. He didn’t finish before the door slammed open and Suyin entered.

“I need a word with Kuvira,” she said, her green eyes cold and sharp as a sword.

“Enough of this,” Korra hissed. “Get over it.”

Kuvira stepped forward, chin high and hands behind her back. “If you’ll allow it Avatar, I don’t mind hearing what she has to say.”

“Then she should show some respect, not barge in her treating everyone as if we’re her servants.”

Suyin straightened her back and unclenched her fists. “I apologize, Korra. I would really like to speak with Kuvira alone. I promise, we will be civilized.”

The Avatar narrowed her eyes angrily, looking back and forth between the two metalbenders. “Make sure you do.”

Suyin allowed many long, tense moments to pass, a futile attempt at intimidation, before she spoke. “I can’t blame Korra for underestimating you. You were right beneath my nose for years and I somehow missed your ability to manipulate, to make those around you believe you are on their side, all the while planning to stab them in the back. My own children are somehow convinced that you have changed, that you’re the girl they grew up with. They still don’t understand that the girl they grew up with is the illusion, and not the monster that enslaved a nation and destroyed their home.”

Kuvira clenched her teeth tight. Her knuckles popped fiercely behind her back. She would not rise to this provocation. Suyin wanted her to strike, to prove true every vicious belief engraved in the older woman’s mind. “Is this all you wished to say?”

“I care greatly for Korra.” Suyin stared down at the carpet, the anger fading for too brief a moment. “I’ve seen that remarkable young woman suffer through too much in her life. Now, only now, has the world begun to reward her the way she deserves. Her body has fully recovered from the damage Zaheer did to it. She is engaged to a wonderful person who is entirely devoted to Korra. The tension between spirits and humans has finally begun to cease, and the world is experiencing a peace it has not known for too long. Despite everything that has happened to her, Korra has proved herself a remarkable Avatar and is finally realizing it.”

Kuvira had seen the change firsthand. The first time Korra walked into her cell five years ago, she’d been bitter and unsure. Frowns greatly outnumbered her smiles, and there’d been a sadness in her eyes on those few occasions when she did not appear crushed by grief. Only a mention of her girlfriend chased the sorrow away, and only briefly. Even the woman Korra loved had been a subject of worry. Time changed her, disconnecting those bent, misshaped pieces and replacing them with a happier woman whose smiles rarely left her face.

“If you betray her now, all of that vanishes. She’s again the naïve young girl who allowed the Earth Kingdom to fall into chaos, nearly died fighting Zaheer, and disappeared for three years. She’s the failure who unleashed a tyrant, even worse a tyrant she’d defeated before. Korra has worked too hard for you to snatch it away now. And if she doesn’t realize it, then it is up to those of us who love her to protect her. The day you turn on Korra, and I know you will, I will be there, and I will end your life.”

Suyin let the words balance in the air, and turned to leave as they dropped to the floor.

“It was mere days ago I told myself I would have done anything to earn my way back into your good graces,” Kuvira said. Suyin turned back around. “When I talked to Opal, I expressed to her how much I wanted my family back. Her, Baatar, you, Huan, the twins, I wanted you all back in my life.”

“That will never happen.”

“I know.” Kuvira breathed deep, keeping calm. “And I no longer care if I earn my way back into your good graces. Because seeing you today reminds me why I left Zaofu to begin with. You’re a coward, Su. And a hypocrite.”

Suyin narrowed her eyes. Her lips curled, allowing a glimpse of her gritted teeth.

“I never realized it until the Red Lotus killed Queen Hou-Ting. And after Korra saved my life and I went to prison, I thought perhaps I had been wrong, that my mind had not been my own. Then I saw you again today. And you saw fit to come here and give your speech. Now I know for sure that I was right. Hate me if you wish, Ms. Beifong. Expect betrayal all you like. I no longer care. You’re simply another person who hates me, and one more person who hates me hardly matters.”

The door burst open again, and Suyin’s hands relaxed away from the metal strips at her waist. Korra ran inside. One needed only glance at her to know something was amiss. “Time’s up, Su. We need to get back to the palace. Something’s happened.”

Suyin did not hesitate to flee. A coward, as always.

“Wait here,” Korra said. “I’ll be back once I find out what’s going on, and then we’ll leave.”

Kuvira crossed her arms. “So I’m back in your care.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

Kuvira watched Korra hurry back out the door, leaving her again in silence. It was no disappointment at all.

Chapter Text

Long years had passed since the past lives of the Avatar weighed heavy on Korra’s mind. Since before Zaheer, if she thought hard about it. Those months following Harmonic Convergence had been among the hardest of her life. She spent weeks reaching out to voices that no longer existed. She avoided her friends and duties. Her patience was a brittle branch easily snapped by the smallest annoyances. The pain was unlike anything she’d ever felt, not even in the three years after Zaheer was defeated when her body was a broken mess. It was a piece of her gone forever, a shared pain with Raava of losing an identity forged over millennia.

Moving on was hard, but she managed, as she managed everything else in her life. Her friends had been a great help. Tenzin had shared stories of his father and meditated at her side. Pema had fussed over her with food and hugs. Their children had occupied her with their boundless energy.

And those were the days when Asami had become her best friend. Mako had tried his best, uncomfortable after their breakup but trying anyway, and Bolin had been the same fun-loving rock she could cling to and distract herself with, but it was Asami who won above the rest. She was the one Korra could talk to. She was the one who cut to the heart of the matter rather than distract from it. And she was the one Korra could cry on the shoulder of.

Korra was not a crier. She grieved through violence. She grieved through anger. The times she had cried in her life were few enough to stand out from the black and white of her memory in full color. She’d cried the day the White Lotus took her to the compound which had been her childhood home. There were a few nights while there, homesick and scared. She’d cried when Tenzin left, hating him more than anyone in the world, and then on his shoulder at Aang’s statue. She cried many times after she was poisoned. Asami had dragged those tears out no matter how much Korra tried to hold them back. Asami had been the one to stress how the past lives weren’t Korra, that she should not define herself by them.

Still, sometimes Korra thought she could feel them, somewhere deep in the pit of her stomach, still clinging to her or Raava or something. She’d feel déjà vu on Kyoshi Island, or visiting an Air Temple. A waterbending technique would come to mind that she’d never used or been taught. She recalled conversations with old Fire Lords she couldn’t possibly have had, or traversing the world as it had once been, in the days of the Lion Turtles.

And now, as tears welling up from some unknown part of her spirit dripped onto a half-finished letter and made the curves illegible, she could feel a part of Aang grieving for his old friend.

The Fire Nation airship she currently traveled aboard was somber and quiet as a graveyard. Black banners covered the hallways walls and flapped mournfully from the exterior. Smoke filled the interior from hundreds of black candles burning at all times. No one spoke a word. Frowns were permanently engraved on every face. The Fire Lord had shut herself in her cabin and had yet to emerge.

Korra crumpled the wet paper and tossed it in a waste basket beside her bunk. A letter would do no good. She needed Asami with her. Why in the world had she told her not to come? Even if she wasn’t curled atop a bed crying her eyes out, without the faintest idea why, she still would have needed Asami here. Korra was not experienced with the loss of loved ones. As the Avatar, she’d be expected to say something at the funeral. She’d be expected to help, and she had no idea how. Asami would. Asami had experienced so much loss in her life. She’d know what the Fire Lord and her sons needed to hear. Korra would likely offend them and make their depression worse.

With hours still to go before the airship landed, Korra decided she needed a walk. She rubbed away her tears, smoothed her clothes, and willed the sorrow down somewhere where it wouldn’t show. She couldn’t bring herself to smile. She’d just opened the door leading into the corridor before she realized a smile would only offend the crew, anyways.

The Fire Nation passed beneath them, all hard rock and high peaks covered with thick forests. What few flat plains stretched between the mountains and volcanoes were crowded with homes and farms, or overtaken by large cities. The harbors were so frequent they appeared as if one large unbroken chain of quays and docks, with an endless stream of ships sending steam into the air as they came and went. Korra leaned on the railing outside the airship, watching it all pass by. She tried her best to ignore the black banners emblazoned with the Fire Nation’s dark-red fork of flame hanging from every tower.

“I remember when Zaofu looked like this,” Kuvira said, materializing like the towering mountains below, tall, sharp, and immovable. “After Sifu Toph left Zaofu, Suyin knew her mother would never return. There was a memorial service, everyone wore black, and the bells rang for an afternoon. Suyin thought she was saying goodbye forever.”

“She was almost right,” Korra said. Kuvira was the only reason Toph returned to the world, brief as that return may have been. The Avatar didn’t say that, though.

“What happens when we land? Where do I go?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t given it any thought. I haven’t given thought to many things at all.” All Korra seemed to be able to do was cry, and she hated it. She didn’t know why she was crying. It would have been easier to deal with if she knew why.

They landed during a sweltering afternoon, the heat only serving to beat them down further. The Fire Lord’s voice was even, her face its typical blank mask and her eyes cool and collected. Her skin was pale though, and she hurried quickly away after ordering her servants to show Korra and Kuvira to a sprawling chamber within the Royal Palace. Korra spent hours by candlelight, trying one more time to pen a letter to Asami. Like the others, she ended up crumpling the paper and tossing it away.

The funeral was held the next evening. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands, had crowded into the largest courtyard of the capital city; every noble, every merchant, every servant, everyone who mattered in the Fire Nation and those who attended them attended the memorial wearing their finest. Korra had been provided with a shimmering red dress, her hair styled in the Fire Nation fashion with golden pins. Hundred of lanterns set hundreds of pieces jewelry ablaze, silver and gold and every fine gem in existence.

As befit her status, Korra was given a place of honor before a towering portrait of Lord Zuko, hanging above the wooden coffin containing his remains. It was the last place in the world she wanted to be. Every pair of eyes glanced back and forth between whoever spoke at the podium and those seated behind it, the generals and the Fire Lord’s three sons, which meant they eventually all fixated on Korra. She did her best to ignore them, and swallowed hard every time she thought to stand up and ask what they were staring at.

The moon hung high in a clear night sky by the time it was Korra’s turn to speak. Everything she could think to say about Lord Zuko had been said at least twice over. His travels besides the Avatar, the establishment of the United Republic, the demilitarization of his people, his bravery, his intelligence, his awkward charm, every word and every perspective had been spoken at that podium. Korra choked out a few words about her the few times she’d spoken with Lord Zuko, about how grateful she was for his role in protecting her when she was a baby, and how she hoped he and his Uncle Iroh would now be able to drink tea and play Pai Sho together for eternity. When she finally stepped away, the smattering of polite applause was enough.

When there were no more words, the servants moved forward to soak the coffin in oil. The Fire Lord took a deep breath. Korra wondered if the shaking of her hands was imagined or not. She began drawing in the flames from the row of torches to either side of the coffin, snuffing them one by one and collecting them between her smooth palms. When the last of them was extinguished, she sprayed the flames towards the coffin. A single tear escaped and quickly dried from the heat.

Korra did not stick around to watch the wood crackle and turn to ashes.

She had only just thought to try and get some sleep when a sharp rapping outside the door chased those thoughts away. Kuvira snapped upwards from her bed, but Korra told her to go back to sleep. No need for both of them to be exhausted. A single servant waited outside. “Avatar. I apologize, but the Fire Lord has requested to see you.”

The summons was no surprise. “Lead the way.”

Spots of ash marked the otherwise pristine, midnight-colored robe Izumi wore. She stared deep into a crackling hearth that only made her pale skin look paler. “He asked to come to Ba Sing Se,” she said when Korra stood beside her. “I refused him. He’s gotten much worse in recent years. Naturally, of course, he was nearly one-hundred-years old. We’d begun making plans for the birthday. I didn’t wish to risk my father’s health with a trip. When the Red Lotus attacked us, I felt validated.”

Fire Lord Izumi pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did the guard catch any of the assailants?” Korra asked.

“Yes. And I promise their feet will be held to the fire until the flames burn away their lies.” The Fire Lord glared at Korra with hard amber eyes. “When that time comes, I’ll need your help.”

“Of course.”

Izumi looked back to the hearth. “We’ve never asked much of you, Avatar. Funny considering how close my father was to Avatar Aang, and your acquaintanceship with my son Iroh. I’ve always preferred my nation handle our problems ourselves. I’d prefer to handle this myself, but I find myself unaware of the Red Lotus. They are cowards who hide in the shadows, and I have no time for cowards, but this cannot go unanswered. I will need to know everything you know about this organization. I will need you to visit Zaheer if possible, and try extracting what information you can from that pathetic criminal. And when it is time to put them to the sword, I want you there. I think it’s time the Fire Nation develop more of a relationship with the Avatar. Even if only because such was my father’s wish.”

“Of course, Fire Lord Izumi. I will help in whatever way I can. I don’t think I have to tell you that I hold no love for the Red Lotus. They will not get away with this. I promise.”

For the first time that day, the Fire Lord’s stern expression cracked. “Thank you, Avatar.”

Once again, knuckles rapidly tapped at the door. Korra was beginning to miss the lack of privacy at home. “Excuse me, Fire Lord,” the servant said, peeking his head cautiously through the small crack where he’d opened the door. “Your visitors are here.”

Izumi nodded. “We’ll talk soon, Avatar.”

The servant opened the door, and Korra smiled. “Tenzin! Bumi! What are you guys doing here?”

Only Tenzin managed a slight grin. Bumi’s normally fun-loving face was unbreakably grim. “We heard what happened,” the younger brother said.

Bumi hurried past. Tenzin nodded, put a hand on Korra’s shoulder, and moved to join him. A sob tickled the Avatar’s ear from the direction of the hearth. She was quick to close the door.

“Mako?” she gasped when she noticed the tall form leaning on the wall in the corridor. “What are you doing here?”

Mako stepped forward. “Chief Beifong sent me to assist in the investigation. Though I doubt there’s much left to investigate besides where and who helped.”

Korra shrugged. “I think the Fire Lord’s on top of that, too.” She smiled and punched her friend in the shoulder. “Good to see you.”

Mako was falsely petulant. “Yeah, stranger. You’re too busy traveling the world to visit your friends very often, huh?”

“Such is the life of the almighty Avatar. I barely get time with the woman I love.”

“Of course.” Mako’s grin faded fast. “I take it you’re sticking around to help?”

Korra nodded.

“All we need are Bolin and Asami and Team Avatar would be back in business, just like the good old days. Too bad Bolin’s too busy with his movers and Asami is doing…whatever it is she does.”

“Don’t ask me, all I know is she builds stuff,” Korra said. “We need to catch these guys, Mako.”

“We will.” Mako set his jaw. “No matter what.”

Chapter Text

In another life, under different circumstances, Kuvira imagined she would have made a wonderful life for herself as a citizen of the Fire Nation. She firmly believed that despite the variables, a person’s nature would always win out over their setting, and so no matter where she may have been born, the principles driving Fire Nation life would have appealed to her.

She walked through a town lifted from her dreams, the embodiment of the vision driving her forward while she united her empire beneath her rule. Clean, orderly streets bereft of beggars. Flapping Fire Nation banners hanging proudly from windows and flapping off high poles. Citizens humming triumphant tunes Kuvira slightly recognized, though she did not know the words. Statues of previous Fire Lords standing proud and polished, appearing as if they’d only just been erected. There was an aura of national pride, o unshakeable unity towards their homeland, filling the air like a drunken aroma, irresistibly intoxicating.

And, like with the previous two towns Kuvira had visited alongside the Avatar, Lord Zuko’s face was everywhere. There were old, fading portraits of him as a boy, gleaming proudly in the afterglow of his coronation. In others he stood in his prime, tall, long-faced and handsome, his raven hair falling down his back and his swords gleaming at his waist. That handsomeness remained as he aged, the snow white of his hair in those portraits lending him an experienced intelligence of a man who accomplished more in a lifetime than most could in two.

The Fire Nation had loved their Lord’s father in a way Kuvira had always dreamt her Empire would love her.

Such was evident yet again as Korra and her friend listened to yet another eager mouth flap everything its owner knew. They’d followed the trail for days, hot on the heels of the Red Lotus, who’d done a poor job covering their tracks. Every town they’d passed had been filled with eager witnesses to the terrorists’ attempted escape. Slowly but surely they were closing the gap.

The friend, Mako, frowned. An expression permanently etched on his features, it seemed. Korra’s satisfied smirk and determined blue eyes were a better sign of their results. “They passed through the forest at the mountain base yesterday morning,” she said. “We’re catching up.”

“Maybe,” Mako said. “Maybe they’re lying. I doubt the Red Lotus managed an attack on Lord Zuko without help.”

“How would people that live miles away from the capital help anyone sneak into the Royal Palace?”

“I’m just saying you never know!”

Kuvira looked away from the argument. It seemed to her these two did little else together besides fight, whether it was against others or between themselves. They had argued every step of the way, ever since the Fire Lord summoned the Avatar with the information gleamed from her “questioning” of those imprisoned in her cells.

“We found their camp two days ago!” Korra shouted.

“We found a camp,” Mako muttered.

“You were told the truth,” Kuvira said.

Mako and Korra both turned towards her. “How do you know?”

“I know deception, better than either of you. I deceived entire provinces. I know the sound and sight of lying. That man is not lying.”

Kuvira stared at the blood-colored roses nestled within a similarly colored vase, sitting atop a table beside a photograph of the deceased Lord Zuko. It was a unique depiction of the smiling Fire Lord just out of his prime and a man with his hands clamped over his stomach as he bellowed laughter. The stranger wore clothes similar to what the Avatar often wore, presumably Water Tribe styling. Kuvira looked at the shop owner’s face and saw how his eyes wandered to that photograph. There was only sorrow.

“There, it’s two against one,” Korra said triumphantly.

Mako shrugged. “Lead the way. I’ll be right behind you.”

The Fire Nation was oppressively hot at all hours. Even dressed in easy breathing cotton, Kuvira spent far too much time pulling at sweat-drenched clothing that stuck uncomfortably to her body. Korra seemed in far worse condition. She was a child of the Water Tribes, raised in snow. Mako and the firebenders accompanying them seemed perfectly comfortable in the heat, almost invigorated by it. Which made sense, Kuvira knew. They drew their power from the Heat.

“Too bad Zaheer wouldn’t tell you anything,” Mako grumbled. “I actually thought he might when you told me you were going. He helped you during the fight against Kuvira, after all.”

“That’s because Kuvira represented everything he hated.” Korra winced, looking sheepishly over at the metalbender. “No offense.”

Kuvira raised her chin. “I consider that a compliment.” To hell with that maniac. He was the monster responsible for the fracturing of her homeland. His opinion meant less to her than a common cutpurse.

“He is still loyal to the Red Lotus,” Korra continued. “I never thought he’d help. I only tried because Izumi asked, and I wasn’t going to turn her down. He isn’t like Kuvira. He has no interest in redemption or atonement. If he was released today, we’d have a dead leader on our hands tomorrow. Perhaps even me.”

Mako balled his hands into fists, an unspoken promise to never let that happen. Kuvira hardly noticed doing the same.

The next city along the trail was a sprawling monstrosity beside the sea. Wooden docks poked like perfect teeth into the bay, the great steamship fleets of a half-dozen different companies pulled alongside them, their crews swarming along the oceanfront like ants. They’d hardly set foot within city limits when a young messenger called Korra’s name and nearly ran into her. He needed a moment to catch his breath before he spoke.

“Avatar Korra, the Fire Lord sent word of your coming. Mayor Zozan is waiting to speak with you.”

Korra lifted an eyebrow. “Well, that was easy. Lead the way.”

Ever the distrusted traitor, Kuvira was left to wander the city while Korra was in her meeting. Mako decided to accompany her, claiming a distaste for political discussions that the metalbender was sure held some truth, but she knew the true motivation was the detective’s own distrust. She voiced no objection. She had nothing to hide.

The swallowing roar of water and voices proved strong enough a compass to guide Kuvira and Mako to the docks through the unfamiliar tangle of streets and the bodies walking them. The detective’s gaze burned at the back of Kuvira’s head hot as any fire to spray from his fingertips.

“Is there something you wish to say?” she asked, turning towards him.

Mako gritted his teeth, but stayed silent.

“Nothing? Nothing at all? Perhaps you wish to express your anger over my release? Or your hatred for my past? Would a threat towards my wellbeing if I hurt the Avatar make you feel better? Please, voice it now. Stand strong and confront me rather than sulk in my shadow.”

The firebender glared angrily, but kept silent. Kuvira turned and continued towards the smell of salt and water-beaten metal.

There was no doubting which ship she was looking for once the buildings of the city fell away to reveal the waterside. Nor was there any doubting the gear emblazoned upon the side. What proved a surprise was the broad, strongly built form that sprinted their way and crashed into Mako, nearly knocking him off his feet.
“Bro!” Bolin shouted, lifting his brother off his feet. “It’s so great to see you! It’s been three months! Can you believe this, Team Avatar back together! It’s been too long, way too long!”

Mako’s face twisted in confusion. “What-?”

Bolin bowled over him, every bit the rolling boulder of enthusiastic energy he’d been when he served in Kuvira’s army. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Republic City and my movers, but it’s so fake. And it’s never as much fun as hanging out and kicking butt with you guys!”

Ms. Sato came striding over next, eyes settling briefly on the two brothers and Kuvira before searching further. The disappointment on her face was chased quickly away by a smile. “Hi, Mako!”

“Hey, Asami,” Mako greeted, disentangling from his brother.

She moved forward to hug Mako herself. “Thank you so much. I’m so grateful you sent your letter. How’s Korra doing?”

The firebender furrowed his brow, clueless. “Um…”

He looked side to side, and caught Kuvira’s eyes. Thankfully, he seemed to catch the hint. Kuvira had penned and worded the letter as generically as she could, and tried to include a few speech patterns she’d heard from Mako over these past few weeks. Whether Ms. Sato believed the letter came from Mako or not was irrelevant. She needed to believe it came from Mako.

“She’s handling this as best she can,” he said.

“She always has,” Asami said.

“Korra’s fine,” Bolin said dismissively. “She’s probably missed Team Avatar just as much as the rest of us. Once we’re all together again, she’ll hoot and holler like always. So let’s go get her and have ourselves a party!” He only then, as he jumped and fist-pumped into the air, noticed Kuvira. “Oh…uh…hi, Kuvira.”

“Bolin,” she greeted. “You seem to be doing well.”

“Um, yeah.” Sweat began pouring down Bolin’s face in swift rivers.

“Korra should be done speaking with the mayor by the time we head over,” Mako said. “So let’s start walking.”

Finding their way to the mayor’s office was far more difficult than finding the docks. There was no smell or sound to guide them, unlike before, and even the troops escorting them lost their direction twice. Korra was waiting outside, leaning against a wall with a worried twist of her mouth, when they finally arrived. One look at Bolin and she smiled like Kuvira had not seen since before Ba Sing Se. She ran towards him, smiling madly and screaming, and nearly knocked the muscled earthbender off his feet when they collided. Deceptively strong as ever, Kuvira thought with a grin.

Ms. Sato was next, the two women fighting to restrain themselves to a fierce hug and a single kiss. Korra rested her head on her lover’s shoulder, eyes searching for explanation. When they landed on Kuvira, the metalbender smiled and nodded. The blue brightened with gratitude.

They spent their night at a preferred inn while Korra planned their next step. When she was done, “Team Avatar” spent the rest of the afternoon and evening trading stories, uncaring of the frightened stares whenever someone yelped with laughter or the anger in the innkeeper’s eyes when prospective guests were frightened away by a playful wrestling match. Kuvira waited until it had grown dark outside before heading for her room, leaving the four to their reunion. She had no place among them that night.

The metalbender was striding quickly down the halls when Korra called out. Kuvira turned to find the Avatar running quickly her way. Still intoxicated with happiness, Korra hugged the taller woman tightly. “Thank you so much,” she said, grinning madly. “This means a lot.”

“I’m fairly talented at reading people,” Kuvira said. “It was clear you needed Ms. Sato around. And I suppose it’s a stroke of fate that Bolin accompanied her.”

“She said she couldn’t resist him,” Korra said, still stupid with joy. “He came to visit, saw her packing, and when he asked, Asami couldn’t lie to him. Bolin never gave her a chance to tell him no. I don’t think she ever wanted to.”

“Bolin is like that.”

“Are you going to bed already? Come on, the night’s young! We’re having lots of fun out here, you should join in!”

Kuvira frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Of course it is, it’ll be fine. We’re all so happy, this is the perfect time for you to start making friends with some of us. Things might be a little awkward, but-”

“But I’m the woman who manipulated Bolin. And tried to kill you. And did kill Ms. Sato’s father. Tonight is not a night for you to focus on reintegrating me into society. Tonight is for you and your friends. I promise, I am alright. Please go have fun, that will make me happy.”

Korra frowned. “It’s somehow easy for me to forget all that.”

“And it is easy for them to remember.”

“Alright, I’ll forget it tonight. But they’re coming with us to take down the Red Lotus. And I don’t care how hard I have to work, I’ll get them to like you before we’re done. Even if they don’t want to.”

Kuvira couldn’t help but smile. “See you tomorrow, Korra.”

The Avatar clapped the metalbender’s shoulder and ran back towards her friends.

Chapter Text

Somehow, Korra felt even happier on this morning than she had the three mornings before.

She thought about slipping out of the bedroll, but Asami’s hands were still pinning Korra’s arms tight around her waist. And there wasn’t a speck of light graying the dark outside the tent. Mako would be up soon to start a fire and make a breakfast. He was responsible like that. The Fire Nation soldiers accompanying her would be as well. There was no reason to get up. Why not catch a few more winks, spend those few more moments cuddled up with Asami?

After all, it had been too long since they’d done this. Sure they took advantage of every chance to be with each other, and to be with Mako and Bolin, and they were always quick to assist each other with whatever pressing matter demanded their attention, but it had been too long since it all focused on the same objective, since Team Avatar was back in business. Really, not since they were hunting the Red Lotus eight years ago. That was probably the last time Team Avatar spent a night on the road together in hunt of bad guys to beat up.

Korra groaned. The Red Lotus were why she had to wake up. She tried to slip her arms from the shackles holding them in place, but Asami’s grip was as tight as handcuffs. Korra yanked, but Asami pulled her back. “You’ve been awake this whole time?”

Asami snored entirely unconvincingly.

“Come on, I need to get up. You can stay in bed if you want but I can’t.”

“No, you don’t,” Asami grumbled, voice that perfect stony rough to bend ice down Korra’s spine and make her throat rumble like a landslide. “The soldiers will come get you if there’s anything urgent. Mako can whip them into shape if they’re lazy. Just lay here with me a little bit longer.”

Korra pulled away again, and Asami pulled her back. The struggle devolved into a half-hearted struggle that ended with Korra holding her fiancé’s shoulders down, astride her waist with lips buried between Asami’s neck and shoulder. The taller girl relaxed that little bit Korra needed to slip free and jump to her feet. Asami groaned and narrowed her angry green eyes.

“Sorry, Sami. Duty calls.”

“I know,” Asami said with a sigh.

It was hot, like it was always hot no matter the hour. Korra made a beeline for the water bottles, past the soldiers already awake and breaking down camp, and took a long chug from one. When she was finished, she froze what remained and rubbed down her face, neck, and arms. It helped little, but it was better than nothing.

Bolin was already up and about, joking with everyone in sight while he helped take care of the morning chores. His enthusiasm endured strong as the day he arrived. He was usually the first one awake, and always the last one to sleep. Mako was with the cook by the fire. All of the soldiers were up as well. Kuvira had had the late watch and would be off scouting ahead, most likely. The triangle of canvas tents were half-broken down already. Korra walked over to the cook fire to wait for breakfast, saying hello to Mako, her stomach loud as thunder.

Asami followed minutes later, dressed, painted, and wide awake somehow, already in out-of-bed Asami mode. Korra smiled. The difference between in-bed Sami and out-of-bed Sami was one of the big surprises in their relationship. Out-of-bed Asami was the woman the world saw, and it began the second she set her feet on the ground. Active, focused, intelligent, articulate, driven, every hair perfectly in place, makeup lacking even the slightest smudge, she became a woman ready to take on the world and own it.

You’d never think the same woman could possibly be in-bed Asami. Something about her body lying horizontally made her lazy and sloppy, made her mumble her words and stole all the grace and class she presented to the rest of the world. Her hair tangled and shot out in every direction. Her mouth hung open, and not even a smudge of makeup remained. Her imagination remained intact, though, Korra thought with a blush. Oh man, did her imagination remain intact.

They set off as the first sprinkles of sun reached over the high peaks surrounding them to chase away the gray morning. By midday, Kuvira returned with the other scouts. Korra felt guilty about her relief. She had no reason at this point to doubt Kuvira, but the doubt remained nonetheless.

“I find it hard to believe the Red Lotus hideout hasn’t been known for quite some time,” the metalbender said. “They’re not exactly hiding, and the layout is highly suspicious, even without prior knowledge of who resides within those caves. There is even a guard post built at the mouth of the base.”

“How far away?” the Fire Nation sergeant, Azao, asked. He was a tall man with thick hair framing a thick jaw, and thick shoulders meeting at a thick neck. He was certainly one of the most imposing men Korra had ever seen, and once she’d seen an exhibition of his firebending, she understood why he held command.

“A few hours. We could attack today, but I’d suggest we wait until tomorrow. Attacking on unknown ground in the dark seems inadvisable.”

Azao’s thick jaw clenched and Korra waited for the rebuttal. She had tried her best to be patient about his distrust and dislike over “taking orders” from a traitor. She understood perfectly, but right now, she was ready to sock the stubborn idiot in that stupid thick jaw.

“Numbers?” the sergeant asked.

Kuvira frowned. “Hard to tell. Could be five. Could be fifty. I wasn’t about to risk the caves with your men to find out.”

Azao nodded and scratched at the thick hair at his cheek. “I agree with her, Avatar. We should march the bulk of our force up the road towards the caves, while a smaller force diverts south to the mountains for cover. While the larger force draws attention, the smaller can hopefully infiltrate the caves unseen and find whoever leads these bastards, eliminate them as a threat, and catch whoever responds to the larger from behind.”

“Okay.” Korra would not smile yet. Now was time for authority, and her goofy grin would kill that authority. “Kuvira, you will go with Azao and his men as the sergeant’s second. I’ll take Mako, Bolin, and Asami into the mountains. Everyone agreed? Then let’s march. I’d like us to have as much time as possible to relax before morning comes.”

By late afternoon, a couple hours before the sun fell below the horizon and an hour after it slipped behind the mountains to the south, camp had again been set up after an easy, short day marching. A short day everyone was grateful for. The march since leaving the capital had been forced and hard, the party desperate to catch up to the fleeing Red Lotus. Korra was happy to give those who followed her this little bit of peace ahead of the coming fight, though she wished she could give them more.

Asami found her sitting against a rock up the mountainside. With a toss of her perfect, out-of-bed Asami hair, she sat down. There was no hiding the worry in Korra’s eyes, so she didn’t try. “This feels too familiar,” she said. “Let’s hope it goes better than last time we fought the Red Lotus, huh?”

It was a bad, terrible, incredibly dumb joke, but Asami was too good a person to chastise her. “At least there’s no Zaheer or his cronies this time, huh?”

“Do we know that for sure?” Korra said. “That’s what has me worried. I have no idea who these Red Lotus are. At least last time I did know what I was walking into. I was scared, but I knew what I was scared of. I prefer a face to shadows. And we know there were Red Lotus members higher up in the organization than Zaheer was. What if they are waiting for us in that cave?”

“Then you’ll defeat them. Just like you did Zaheer.” Asami put a hand on Korra’s shoulder. “You’re a different person than the girl who fought Zaheer. You’re a different Avatar. This time there are no airbenders held captive, no poison in your body, no doubts in your mind about who and what you are. And you aren’t alone. We’ll beat them Korra. You know we will.”

Korra leaned on her lover’s shoulder. “No matter how I try to balance, the world always seems to swing too far the other way. I stop the Red Lotus and create Kuvira. I stop Kuvira and the Red Lotus come back. The spirits’ attitude towards humans seems to change from moment to moment. The Earth Kingdom’s transition to democracy is going well right now, but it only takes one greedy governor to justify the return of the monarchy. I can never create the world I want. I wonder sometimes if I’m worse at being an Avatar than others were.”

“If you’re waiting for the day that the world stops facing problems, I have some bad news,” Asami said. “No Avatar ever made a perfect world. They spent their life dealing with them as they came. You’ll never stop having to solve the world’s problems, as much as I wish you could.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“Only when I’m not at your side.”

Korra grinned goofily. “I suppose it does make a big difference when you’re at my side. I always fight better when I’m trying to impress you.” Asami shoved her lightly, no real attempt to create any distance. “I love you, Sami. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Asami kissed her forehead. “I love you, too. And there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

“I know you won’t believe me since you found me sitting her moping, but I really don’t want to think about tomorrow. What say we walk around and find some way to have fun?”

“I don’t believe you, but I’m game. What do you have in mind?”

The giddy Avatar leapt to her feet and pulled Asami up with her. She tried her best not to show the worry still weighing like a boulder on her thoughts. Something about this felt wrong, felt like more than it appeared. She wondered if it had been too easy to find the Red Lotus, if they weren’t hiding because they wanted Korra to come to them. She’d have to be careful. She couldn’t let her friends get hurt by bumbling recklessly into a trap like she might have when she was seventeen and fresh out of the South. As Korra dragged her girl by her hand back down the slope, she shook her head to bury the worry deep down. Tonight would be a night of fun.

They found Bolin and Mako outside the ring of tents. Far enough, Korra noted, that their practice wouldn’t endanger the others. They tossed rock and fire at each other, fast enough to demand attention but slow enough to avoid serious risk. Korra stopped at a distance where she knew she’d be little more than a silhouette in the dark. She grinned at Asami before her eyes took on the powerful glow of the Avatar State. When Bolin stomped a chunk of rock from the ground and sent it at his brother, a well aimed throw at the chest, she manipulated it just enough for Bolin to wonder. When Mako sent forth a vertical arc of flame, Korra split it in half.

It wasn’t until she returned one of Bolin’s projectiles flying back at his face that the brothers looked Korra’s way. Asami’s laughter was well worth the annoyed glare on their faces. “Having fun?” Mako spat. Of course he’d be unnecessarily angry.

“Not as much as I want to,” Korra said. “Come on, come with Sami and me. We want to have some fun. It’s been too long since Team Avatar got crazy together and caused trouble.”

“What kind of fun?” Mako asked suspiciously.

“Who cares?” Bolin said. “Whatever Korra has in mind has to be better than sparring. All I ever do anymore is spar, I’m ready for a real fight.”

“Come on, Mako, do you really think Korra would get you in trouble?” Asami said. “Who would she get you in trouble with? She’s the Avatar, she’s the lead authority here. No Beifongs to worry about for thousands of miles.”

“Yeah, come on, Mako,” Korra said.

“Come on!” Bolin shouted.

Mako pouted and crossed his arms as they continued. Korra wasn’t fooled. He was smirking as much as the rest of them. “Okay, Korra. You’re the Avatar here. What fun will we be having out here?”

“Actually,” Korra said, “I think Ms. Sato here is the creative one of the group. So I defer to her.”

Asami tapped a finger against her pursed lips, thinking it over. When she smiled, it was the mischievous smile Korra usually only saw on in-bed Asami’s face. Maybe leaving the decision to her had been a mistake. “Just how much does the Avatar State take out of you, babe?” she asked.

Bolin whooped loudly.

Chapter Text

In an example of one of life’s many stark contrasts, what battles were involved in the unification of the Earth Kingdom, the largest of the world’s four nations, had almost all been minor skirmishes between small forces. Large-scale battle on open fields and prolonged sieges had been few and very far between. Ba Sing Se itself had qualified, certainly. Omashu had required the full potential of Kuvira’s army. Ragtag collections of bandits, rebels, and opportunists occasionally scraped together a force large enough to wield a true battle.

Much more often, Kuvira’s experience with warfare over those three years had involved situations such as she found herself in now; standing outside hideouts with a small, carefully selected group of soldiers, ready to snuff out a small band of the disreputable. Sneaks cornered into dirty, shadowy corners. It was ugly work and always more complicated than open battle. She knew today would likely prove much the same.

Two pairs of eyes stared out from the guardhouse outside the cave, the faces they belonged to shrouded in darkness. Sergeant Azao’s troops stood in an imperfect square of rows of five, swords in one hand and swirling flame in the other, while their commander bellowed. “You have one more hour! Surrender or we will attack!”

Every hand clenched tighter to the grip of their blades. Kuvira looked over their faces, her hands gripped clenched at the small of her back. There was much to know from simply looking at the face of a soldier. How much battle they had seen, the hardships involved, what triumphs and failures had inflicted upon them. The eyes told of their bravery and resolve. The color of their skin. The sweat rolling down their faces. Kuvira had learned to see everything she needed to know about a soldier in that one look. One look at the Fire Nation troops to her left told her the Fire Lord had chosen well. She expected nothing less from a leader whose nation loved her so.

An hour later, on cue, Kuvira saw the small stone fly her way, the signal that the Avatar’s squad was in position. She was quick to crush it to dust before it hit the ground. Sergeant Azao frowned when he looked her way. The man had opposed her at nearly every step of the journey, but like a true soldier, he swallowed his objections now. The two shared a nod, and the sergeant turned to his troops.

“You know our job and how to go about it, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” he said, the fire in his voice under expert control. He set his impressive jaw and scratched at the tangled bramble framing his face. “So do your job, watch each other’s backs, and get through this in one piece. These are cowards, criminals who dare not test the Fire Nation’s army in real battle, so they make us burn them from their spider-rate holes. Time to light the fire!”

Kuvira stood aside as ten of the firebenders stepped forward, took a wide stance, and began pulling streaks of flame from the shimmering air, coalescing them into an orb of swirling, angry heat. The eyes in the window fled moments before the orb crashed into the guardhouse, breaking it to pieces, and Kuvira was quick to bind their wrists and ankles before they could flee into the cave. An already scorching day was made insufferable by the fire now sending a thick plume of black smoke into the air.

They waited a long time for a response. Too long, in Kuvira’s opinion, but she was not in command and would not dare undermine Azao’s authority by cutting the base supporting its peak. “Nothing,” the sergeant grumbled. “Formation! Watch each other’s backs, check every corner. We are fire, and we will burn this rot away. Move out!”

Kuvira traveled near the front of the formation, surrounded by heat and shadow, eyes flitting in the dull illuminations of the cave. The cave bore deep into the mountainside, a single path devoid of branching side chambers, just wide enough for four to walk shoulder to shoulder. Five hands held flames in a hand, the only beacon preventing the jaws of blindness from swallowing them all.

None had marched forth to stop them, but the inhabitation of the mountain was clear. Tables lined the walls. Stacked barrels of food and clothing blocked the path. Unlit lanterns hung off hooks hammered into the stone. A map of the Fire Nation was staked to beneath one.

While the unease of the firebenders around her hung as heavy as the layers of stone above their heads, Kuvira felt as relaxed as a gentle breeze. It had likely been pure luck that the malcontents of the fractured Earth Empire had not thought to band together in opposition of her conquest. Large-scale warfare was a bruise on her memory, purple, angry, and permanent. Every battle had poked at that bruise, every unavoidable death had punched at it, until the bruise had spread to her very conscious and humanity. The Avatar had needed four long years to heal that bruise, and another year to assure it had faded entirely.

A chamber opened up, nothing but silhouettes and threats. Kuvira fell back until she was beside Sergeant Azao. “This is a trap. Allow me to take the lead.”

The sergeant nodded, and whispered for his men to stop. The narrow pathway carried his voice, echoing it off the walls. Kuvira stepped ahead and into the chamber, staring up towards the concealed ceiling. A single step, purposely scuffing the rough stone, was enough to trigger the trap. The metalbender just managed to bend a barrier to ward the fire blast aimed her way, the heat barely felt in the swampy air.

The Fire Nation soldiers poured into the chambers, flinging their flames recklessly at the walls while taking cover behind Kuvira’s wall. Hostile bending chipped away it, streams of fire, water, and air breaking it apart piece by piece. Kuvira waited patiently as the firebending exchanges illuminated her surroundings and revealed the Red Lotus benders attacking from black archways, and bound their limbs as they appeared.

Sergeant Azao barked orders with the best of them, and his eyes sharp as a sword, quick to identify the Red Lotus as they poured into the chamber. Kuvira followed his orders without complaint, raising new barriers to protect flanks and restraining the terrorists. Whatever doubts she had about the man before fled surer than a snowflake in the Fire Nation’s eternally heated air. His men were well-positioned, well-trained, and well-disciplined. Azao himself, while aggressive, was tactically sound.

A young soldier to Kuvira’s right, sweat dripping from his skin and splashing at his feet, was the only casualty. He had been among the first to Kuvira’s side, and stayed there throughout the fight firing fearlessly at their enemies. Kuvira had noticed the subtle shake of the wall behind and above her where an earthbender had tunneled a path to catch them from behind. She turned and collapsed the makeshift passage atop them, but too late. Two skull-sized rocks had flung the young firebender’s way, the crack when they shattered his knee and jaw like the snapping of twigs. Kuvira swallowed. War never failed to exact its price. She nearly erased him from her mind before realizing the mistake. It was the same mistake that cost her everything before. Instead she remembered his face, a permanent portrait etched unfading into steel.

The fight ended with the abruptness of a campfire in a sudden downpour. Such was the way of war; you didn’t realize what had happened until the warmth had fled and you were soaked to the bone and shivering cold. Those Red Lotus bound by Kuvira’s metalbending snarled and struggled along. More lay unconscious, slumped face down or leaning against walls. They were also restrained and taken with the others out of the cave.

Kuvira knelt by their only injury, watching him refuse to moan the pain wracking his body from his shattered jaw and knee. Even drinking a sip of water was too much, eliciting ashamed whimpers. “Do not hide the pain,” Kuvira said. “There is no shame in it. Pain is what makes you human and teaches lessons. You never want to lose it.”

The firebender nodded, but still would not cry out, even when others came to assess his injuries. Eventually a pair lifted him to his feet and guided him away, his arms draped over their shoulders to keep the burden off his injured leg.

“Eighteen,” Sergeant Azao said, smug grin twisting his mouth in a movement as unnatural as a mountain peak without snow. “We captured eighteen of them. We might not have left any for the Avatar and her crew.”

“I find it hard to believe they threw everything they had at us so soon,” Kuvira said. “This was an assessment, a test of our capabilities. Losing a man so soon may not bode well if worse awaits us deeper in this lair.”

Azao’s expression sobered. “I saw you attempting to comfort my men. A nice gesture, but these are hardened soldiers. I’m sure Kahzo appreciates it but he did not need it. To be frank, I did not expect such a gesture based on your reputation.”

“Which is why I make such gestures. I do not wish my reputation to forever be that of a woman willing to bleed anyone to achieve my desires.”

“That’s not-”

“Do not lie. We both know the words spoken about me.”

Azao’s smile faded to the familiar frown, frosty as ice. “I would never consider such a reputation as a slight. A soldier must understand the inevitability of loss and sacrifice. A commander must be willing to not only accept these inevitabilities, but condemn those they command to them.”

“Accepting is not the same as casually dismissing. Your men do not need to die simply because they are willing, and you should always remember the faces of those who pass.”

While Kuvira had regretfully forgotten hundreds who had died under her command, and never known of hundreds more who had died indirectly because of her actions, she would never forget the first. Fenfang had volunteered to join Kuvira’s army in the first small village she’d come across after leaving Ba Sing Se; it had hardly qualified even as that, to tell the truth. An ancient farm surrounded by four newer homes, with every inhabitant working the fields or within two massive barns when Kuvira’s army marched by. When a thin-shouldered, thick-legged girl easily passable as sixteen-years-old came interrupted their march to beg the opportunity to join, Kuvira had laughed with Baatar in her tent that night.

Fenfang proved relentless, and after two days following the army challenged Kuvira to a duel to prove herself. Many had begged to represent Kuvira in putting the girl in her place. At the time, the metalbender had not been sure why she bothered testing the girl at all. Retrospect allowed her a view unavailable in the moment, where Fenfang’s short, bobbed hair and the deceptive strength in her soft eyes made the reaching resemblance to Opal clear. The girl had been hopelessly outmatched, of course, but shown potential. And over the course of two months, she’d proven herself a skilled warrior.

Kuvira frowned. “We should move as soon as possible. Best not to give the Red Lotus excess time to plan their next ambush.”

Sergeant Azao nodded. “Good idea. I’ll have to assign protection for the prisoners.”

“Of course.”

The commander marched away, and Kuvira breathed deep. A faint whisper tickled at her ear so softly as to perhaps be imagined. The roar of fire somewhere above. The thud and scrap of moving stone. The shudder of a body run through with electricity. A familiar voice shouting warnings and orders. Kuvira hoped Azao would hurry. The Avatar had most certainly been expected as well.

Chapter Text

Korra had become a different person in many ways over the last decade. More confident, less angry, less concerned with the opinions of others and more concerned with satisfying the standards of what she knew to be right or wrong. Her instincts no long defaulted to violence, and the spiritual aspect of her being grew stronger by the day. Her body had healed fully from its injuries, and the darkness which once haunted her mind had been chased away, mere shadows crowded into corners and mostly forgotten, only occasionally gathering the strength to make her toss and turn during the night.

The Avatar was a different person in many ways, but as she dodged hostile bending and knives gleaming black and vicious in glimpses of firelight, she could feel the grin on her face. Time had never diminished her love of a good fight against people who deserved to have their butts kicked.

She kept a tall, bearded man occupied with air blasts long enough for Asami to glide over and shock him with her glove. She and Mako doubled the fire thrown at a stocky woman until she was overwhelmed. A screeching old man rushed forward, was tripped by a sudden depression in the ground, and fell right into a thudding roundhouse kick that caught him in his chest. Korra hardly stopped to consider the Red Lotus she defeated before moving into the next. They streamed into the triangular chamber hesitantly now. Many had to navigate their falling allies. Eventually they stopped coming, and only three frightened, shaking saps remained, huddled together wide-eyed in a corner.

Korra relaxed from her fighting stance, yet more proof she had changed over the years. She hardly felt the urge to knock the terrorists’ heads together. “Surrender, and we’ll promise what mercy we can,” she said.

The three Red Lotus members exchanged uncertain glances, a silent discussion of whether to trust Korra or not. The eldest of them, a woman with gray hairs hanging stray from her hood and falling across her eyes, stepped forward. “We surrender.”

“Good.” Korra was genuinely glad. Who was this woman and what happened to the girl who beat the stuffing out of three mobsters within five minutes of landing in Republic City? “You step forward first.”

Once the defeated and surrendered Red Lotus had been secured, Korra stretched and chuckled. Bolin hooted and clapped her on the back. She returned the favor. “Spirits, that felt good!” the earthbender said.

“Different from the movers, huh bro?” Mako, even Mako, was smiling. “I noticed you pulling your punches at first.”

“I have to when I film,” Bolin pouted. “I can’t break a co-star’s face and ruin the whole production. I pulled my weight here, didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Korra said. More than held his weight. Korra had assumed five years away from continuous battle may have dulled Bolin’s skills, but he seemed more powerful than ever. She could feel the way the cave walls pulled towards him, the way the ceiling creaked unintended threats just out of natural reaction to her friend’s raw strength. “You might want to restrain yourself a little bit, though. We don’t want you getting too excited and collapsing the cave on top of us.”

Bolin frowned. “Sorry.”

Mako slugged his brother in the shoulder and Asami smiled.

The sounds of battle reached their ears from somewhere ahead and below while they continued deeper into the Red Lotus lair. Kuvira and Azao were still fighting. Small alcoves opened black and yawning to either side as Korra led the way. Heavy trunks of wood and metal lay at the foot of beds. Pictures of family hung above them. Korra did her best to ignore them for the moment.

The air seemed to suck from her lungs the deeper they traveled, and the swampy heat became as uncomfortable as a furnace. The occasional pair of Red Lotus attacked and were easily dispatched. The cave winded up, down, left, right, winded back and forth. A blast of flameless heat made Korra wince. She held up an arm, and her flesh felt like a piece of meat crackling on a grill. She extinguished the fire in her other hand and felt her way along using the walls, rough and hot beneath her fingers.

A ruddy glow broke the dark. Bolin grabbed Korra’s shoulder roughly. “There’s a lot of lava ahead. I can feel it. That’s what’s making that glow.”

Korra frowned, her eyebrows furrowed. “Any chance we stumbled into a strange volcano somehow?”

“No,” Asami said. Her normally pale skin glowed orange and suspicious.

Bolin took the lead, shuffling along carefully. The glow ahead grew large and hot as the mouth of the hells. The path ended in small jutting above the ground level of massive chamber, the far end seemingly as far away as the entire path they’d walked to that point. A moat of shimmering magma surrounded an island of volcanic rock. Three figures stood upon it. Two of them wore sleeveless black cloaks with red hoods pulled over their heads. Between them was a shirtless man whose bare flesh resembled a barren plain, his sickly yellow flesh marked with swaths of black and red where the flesh had melted and scarred. Korra’s face paled, and the shadows in her memory spread gleefully.

“It’s been a long time, Avatar Korra.” The mustache framing his mouth had burned away alongside his long hair, but Korra would recognize those eyes anywhere. Ghazan had populated too many of her nightmares. “I can honestly say I missed you.”

“Asami, I need you to leave,” Korra said. When her fiancé grasped at a trembling hand, the Avatar pulled away. “Now.”

“Korra, I can’t-”

“Ghazan is too dangerous. Go find Kuvira and Azao. Help them get here as quickly as possible.”

Korra turned to look at Asami, and tried her best to still her shaking and keep the tears in her eyes. Asami’s frown twisted her face, but she was still beautiful. Korra expected her to fight. Instead the older woman leaned forward, kissed Korra on the lips, and rushed away.

“How’s your lavabending these days, Bolin?” Ghazan asked, sneering. His eyes boiled and shimmered hot as the lava surrounding him. His ruined skin made Korra wince.

“How did you get out of that temple?” Bolin asked.

Ghazan snickered. “Sheer will, boy, and the need for vengeance.” His hateful glare snapped to Mako. “I know what you did to Ming. Believe me when I say you will suffer for it.”

Korra pulled her friends behind her. “So you’ve taken up Zaheer’s mission.”

“To the Fog of Lost Souls with Zaheer,” the lavabender said. “I killed Zuko and attacked Ba Sing Se to lure you. And here you are.”

“It would have been easier to send an invitation. And involved a lot less firebenders to help me take you down.”

Ghazan chuckled, raw and burned. “I only see the two I want to kill.”

Korra jumped down to the island below, deflecting the fire shot her way. A finger of lava splashed in her direction and was cooled to rock inches away. Bolin. She’d had faith he’d handle the lava for her.

Hardened magma cracked beneath Korra’s feet when she landed. She went flat, twisted her legs in a circle, and sent a funnel of fire at one of the hooded figures. She pivoted, ready to punch fire at the other one in the hood, but Mako had landed beside her with his sights set. Ghazan lifted a wave of lave from the moat, but again Bolin was there to cool it before it fell upon Korra. He began his own assault on Ghazan while Mako and Korra dealt with the others. The myriad of entrances into the chamber sealed as they fought.

Korra felt the heat, unlike any she’d ever been exposed to, squeeze her like juiced orange. The shimmering haze above the lava made the walls dance, made every step uneasy. The hooded firebender’s constant attack only made the air hotter. Korra felt her mind begin to cloud. The storm within those clouds told her to go into the Avatar State. She shook her head, refusing. Ghazan would want that, and would have planned for it. Korra renewed her attack until she had driven the firebender across the moat, pinned him against a wall, and closed the distance to slam him to the ground.

Mako had already dispatched the other when the Avatar turned around. Bolin was on the offensive, driving Ghazan back. The Red Lotus leader had been driven into the moat, cooling a pathway for his feet as he retreated. Bolin followed. Exactly as the more experienced bender hoped. Bolin was able to cool the lava before it descended upon him, but the impact knocked him unconscious. Ghazan caught him before he fell and set him back on the island.

“Zaheer has accepted defeat,” Korra said. “He lost the woman he loved as well, and he accepted his role in her death. He no longer seeks vengeance. He even helped me defeat Kuvira. Why do you still cling to hate? Death will not bring Ming-Hua back.”

Ghazan sneered, his eyes cold black pits. Korra remembered her limited interactions with the man before. He’d been a demonic fighter, a loyal ally and friend to Zaheer, and there’d never been any doubt of the need to defeat him alongside the others, but he’d never appeared so vicious before. Bolin had claimed him to be even be a funny, laid back man. Whatever had happened to him when the temple collapsed had burned away his good humor and left only the violence beneath. Hisses like a chameleon snake whistled through his clenched teeth as those hateful eyes looked back and forth between Mako and the Avatar.

“Zaheer is a man of ideals and ambition. He wished to change the world. When he lost the woman he loved, he had something more to drive him forward.” For the first time, a hint of something more glimmered in Ghazan’s eyes. It vanished quicker than Koh could steal a face. “I had Ming-Hua and my friends. When we killed you, I was going to tell her. Instead you took everything from me.” Ghazan shrugged. “It’s only fair I take everything from you in return.”

Korra readied herself. Mako stood focused and tense. “Try it,” the Avatar said. No matter how the years had changed her, she still loved a good fight against a guy who deserved to get his butt kicked.

Ghazan nodded, stomped the ground to raise a barrier, dug his hands into the rock, and began melting it. Korra wouldn’t allow him the initiative. She rushed forward and sliced the melting rock in two with a great, slicing arc of airbending. “Get Bolin out of here!” she shouted to Mako.

“I can’t leave you to fight him alone!” the firebender shouted.

“You aren’t. You’re getting your brother to safety and coming right back to help me.” She dodged a sharp sliver of rock. “Go!”

Mako grabbed Bolin beneath his arms, and two jets of fire propelled him back up to the ledge where they’d entered. Korra let out a yell as she rushed forward

Chapter Text

Up ahead, the cave forked left and right, both pathways swallowed by darkness. Footsteps echoed off the walls to the right, their creator sucking in heavy, gasping breaths. To the left, there was the unmistakable roar and quake of bending. The runner reached the junction where the two pathways merged, tilted his head to listen, and doubled back down the pathway to the left.

Asami reached her glove out from the shadows. There was a reed-thin shriek as the Red Lotus terrorist crumpled to the ground.

She waited patiently for someone to follow, and inhaled a relaxing breath of her own at the silence. While the shadows had provided her plentiful cover, she’d been very lucky not to run into any larger groups. They’d come one at a time; those running to flee, those running to join, those running to gather reinforcements, they’d come one or two at a time, easily avoided despite the cramped space. Asami had spent her life hiding in shadows. Those in a Red Lotus cave caused her no more discomfort than her father’s shadow ever had.

A lock of hair slipped from behind her ear to fall over her eye. Asami angrily tucked it back in place. Korra was fighting right now. Maybe by the time she found Sergeant Azao and returned the fight would be over. Korra would be standing there waiting, that adorably lopsided grin on her face and a suggestive sheen of sweat glistening on her skin. They’d cling to each other, Korra would make some terrible joke, and Asami would laugh for no reason other than the relief prying fear’s rocky fingers from around her heart. Or she’d be dead because Asami was too slow, and Ghazan would be waiting to finish the rest of them off.

She picked up her pace, refusing such thoughts.

Her legs fought every step, the muscles quaking in a plea to turn around, to go help Korra. Too much of Asami’s life had been spent waiting on those she loved. Her father had spent her childhood building Future Industries into a corporate powerhouse, and her teenage years maintaining it. She’d waited long nights at home, alone, every night he did not come home to the absurd social status of a mansion he’d had built making Asami feel more a possession locked in a vault than his daughter, no different than the paintings on the walls or the expensive dining ware in the kitchen.

She’d waited in the aftermath of the revelation of his involvement with the Equalists, as well. Many nights, she’d lied wide awake in the room Tenzin had loaned her on Air Temple Island, waiting for the man who’d promised his wife to stop picking their daughter up when she was six-years-old yet always did so the first time Asami batted her eyelashes. She’d waited for him to see the error of his ways inside a hangar. She’d waited for the monster she no longer knew to strike her down inside that same hangar. Even in the end, she’d waited for him to finish creating an opening in Kuvira’s colossal mech, and waited for her feet to hit ground, tears dripping from her wide eyes, after he’d ejected her from the hummingbird.

Asami had waited for Korra, as well. The day the hot-tempered Avatar entered her life had been the straight edge which kept Asami true every day afterwards. Like everything else in her life, the young woman had waited; she’d waited for Korra’s hostility over Mako to fade and the two to become friends, waited while she rebuilt her body and mind from Zaheer’s poisoning, waited for Korra to realize how madly in love Asami was with her. In the years since they became a couple, Asami had waited weeks or months at a time for Korra to return from the duties which pulled her from their home. Waiting was the hardest thing in the world. Asami was a person of action.

The thunder of roaring flames grew louder and louder. Asami continued on towards them, navigating multiple branching paths and circular chambers. As the fleeing sprinted her way, she intercepted them. A pair managed to surprise her, hidden to either side of a three-way intersection, each of them grabbing an arm while demanding she give up. She slipped away from one, elbowed the other, smashed them together, and moved on.

Kuvira and Azao were fighting off the straggling remnants of a much larger group of Red Lotus when Asami found them, at least two-dozen terrorists either restrained or unconscious around them. The non-bender jumped down among them, incapacitating two with her glove before she was noticed. Another three fell while distracted, and Kuvira handled the last, wrapping a metal strip around the terrorist’s wrist and flinging him into the ceiling.

The metalbender stood at attention and nodded, effortlessly intimidating as ever. Azao moved to stand behind her. Asami wondered if the Fire Nation sergeant even noticed the transference of his authority to this woman he hardly knew. “Ms. Sato,” Kuvira greeted. “I expected to find you with Korra.”

Asami had expected the same. She gave her throat a moment to leech the venom from the words traveling its length. “She needs your help, and now. We found the Red Lotus leader. It’s Ghazan.”

If the Fire Nation soldiers knew who Ghazan was, their expressions betrayed no recognition. Kuvira knew. Kuvira had been there during the Red Lotus’s attempted abduction in Zaofu and seen what the lavabender was capable of. “Sergeant?”

Azao hurried to her side. Asami glared, but he didn’t appear to notice. “Yes?”

“We need to hurry ahead with Ms. Sato. I’d suggest we bring your three best men as well. Ghazan is no foe to underestimate.”

“Good idea,” Azao said, his chest puffed out as if the plan had been his. He hurried off to do as he was told.

Kuvira turned back to Asami. “We should move ahead. Every second counts.”

Asami didn’t need to be told twice. She pivoted and broke into a jog.

Finding Kuvira felt as if it had taken hours. The sprint back took mere minutes. Asami never broke her gaze from the path ahead. There were only the walls pressing in to either side, the rhythmic pounding of boots on the stone, the inhale and exhale of breath. Asami was the fastest of them the entire way.

The metal strips at Kuvira’s waist clinked with every foot forward, just behind Asami. The non-bender clenched her jaw and refused to look back. She couldn’t deal with Kuvira right now. She couldn’t deal with the passive, immobile expression, the naturally condescending frown, or the eyes that looked down upon everyone, no matter your height or status. Asami was aware of everything the metalbender had in her search for redemption, of the trust Korra held towards her. Asami could even say that one day she might forgive Kuvira. Today was not that day. She broke into a sprint to create more distance between them.

Sheer, featureless rock stood where the opening to Ghazan’s pit had stood before. There was no lever to pull, no crank to turn, no keypad to press. Asami roamed her hands over the rock, searching or section that might press in and remove this obstacle that should not exist. She pounded at the rock and screamed away the throb in her bones. A firm hand pulled her away.

Kuvira stepped forward. Her eyes narrowed while she pressed the long fingers of one hand against the rock. Her feet shifted and her head snapped upwards. “There’s a ledge on the other side of this wall?” the metalbender asked.

“Yes.”

The firebenders stopped behind Asami. “There’s someone beyond the wall,” Kuvira said. “I can’t tell who.

She stepped back, held out her hands, and began breaking the wall down. Large cracks streaked formed on the edges, snapping like thunder as they converged at the center. With a stomp and a violent pull, the shattered pieces fell and a familiar red glow shone in the gaping maw, like a mouth of broken teeth.

A ribbon of flame danced off the chamber ceiling beyond, followed by the thud of impact and a pained grunt. Asami jumped the crumbled rock and onto the ledge. Below, Korra was throwing all she had at a retreating Ghazan. What few walls the lavabender constructed with struck down immediately. His few attacks were avoided with the same ease which Korra could now navigate the rotating gates on Air Temple Island. It was almost over. Asami found herself leaning at the rim of the ledge, the sweat pouring down her face not solely a product of the heat in the air, heavy as the mountain surrounding them. They were not too late, and by the look of it may not even be needed.

Asami wobbled, and a strong arm wrapped around her waist as the ledge crumbled beneath her feet. The moat of lava simmered ahead of her when she looked up. She shrugged out of Kuvira’s grasp. Ghazan shifted to face Asami, and Korra’s face went pale.

Asami had learned much sparring Korra. The non-bender had always considered herself a capable fighter, and proven so in the years she’d fought at the Avatar’s side. Her father had enrolled her in self-defense classes since she was old enough to go to school, and over the years she’d seen it all; she’d sparred with benders, non-benders, tall, short, muscled, thin, slow, fast, brute force and agility, every way a person could fight, Asami had seen it. There were many lessons you learned through fighting experience, the most important which was how even a momentary lapse in concentration could turn a fight against someone.

Sparring Korra had proved the greatest illustration of this lesson. Asami’s illusion of her skill compared to the Avatar had lasted all of the first day they stepped in a sparring ring together. Asami could hold her own, but Korra was not merely a bender, or a fighter. She was every bit as potent with punches, kicks, and grappling as she was with the elements. She was the personification of physical combat. Every muscle, from the tips of her fingers to her bouncing feet, were part of a finely tuned machine whose purpose was fighting. Perhaps there lied the source of the raw, inescapable attraction which drew Asami to Korra to begin with. Finely tuned machines were kind of her thing. Combat was how Korra had been raised. She took great pride in her fighting abilities, and never stopped striving to improve them.

“I can’t,” she would say as she pounded on a heavy bag, that stray hair plastered by sweat to her forehead in that way which made Asami bite her lip. “The day I stop trying to better myself is the day someone gets the edge on me.”

Asami saw the opening her fall had created. Korra noticed as well, but it was too late. The stone pillar smacked hard into her ribs, throwing her through the air until she smacked against the chamber wall with a groan like a ball popping, the air driven from her lungs. She winced, tried to stand, and fell back to the ground.

“Korra!” Mako landed with a stumble at Asami’s side.

“Stay back, Ms. Sato,” Kuvira said. “Let us handle this. Ghazan’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Asami hissed.

“Asami,” Mako pleaded. “Please, listen to her.”

The non-bender glared back and forth, wanting to punch both of them in the face. Kuvira’s frown was slightly deeper than usual. Mako’s trademark petulance was vanished entirely. “Fine. But you better not let anything to happen to Korra.”

“It’s not Korra I’m worried about,” Kuvira said, smirking. “She’ll be fine. I’m worried what the Avatar would do to me if you were injured in any capacity. Let’s go, Detective.”

The two benders rushed forward, and Asami grit her teeth, left again to wait on those she loved.

Chapter Text

“There’s more behind us!” Azao shouted from above.

“Can your men handle it?” Kuvira asked. She gently pulled the boulder thrown her way off to the side, and threw up a wall before a spray of lava could make contact.

“I’m sorry, I have to help them!”

Kuvira didn’t bother shouting after him. She had too much of a fight on her hands. Mako narrowly avoided a duo of pillars crashing towards him, his own offense ineffectively sizzling against the ever shifting wedge of cooled rock protecting Ghazan. He held both Kuvira and the young firebender at bay, his wall both his offense and defense, never allowing them to close the distance. The battle was fought on his grounds. Kuvira furrowed her eyebrows, analyzing, trying to find some way to alter the control of the conflict.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ms. Sato had dragged the Avatar away from the battle and was keeping watch over her, the glove in her right hand crackling an ineffective threat. One less factor to fret over. Kuvira again reached for the molten wall and was again denied. Ghazan had complete control of his defense. Every time she reached to manipulate the earth, he would melt that section and throw it her way. Mako sprinted around the edge of the moat in attempt to flank the lavabender. A towering spray rose from the moat and forced him to retreat back the way he came. They continued this way, exchanging projectiles as Kuvira and Mako tried to expose nonexistent openings in the lava bender’s defense.

A small appreciation, undesired and shunned, was nevertheless existent in Kuvira’s thoughts towards Ghazan’s mastery. She remembered well the skirmish at Zaofu; he had created a battleground much the same, cutting off approach with a moat of lava and making it near impossible to reach Korra on the makeshift island in the middle. That day had been a turning point in Kuvira’s life. She still considered that fight her first taste of true bending mastery.

“Surrender!” Azao shouted, jumping down from the broken entryway. Five others followed, and another pair took up position in the jagged maw. “You’re outnumbered, criminal!”

Ghazan smirked, the cracked skin stretching. The lava rose from the pool surrounding the island to the high ceiling above and fell upon him, cooling as it landed, creating a jagged dome of steaming volcanic rock.

“He can’t hide forever,” Azao said.

Kuvira went pale. “He’s not. Get down, everyone down!”

Mako ran for Ms. Sato and the Avatar. The Fire Nation soldiers stood frozen, sadly ignorant. Kuvira threw up a hasty barrier and crouched low. She saw Bolin, wobbled and groggy, jump down into the chamber. Her barrier caved inwards and she was propelled backwards, the world going black when her head cracked on the wall.

Zaofu’s domes raised high and smooth above her when she opened her eyes. Two of her Guard swung by on their metal cables. The smell of steaming pastries, berry-flavored addictions special to Zaofu’s kitchens, mingled with the flowery smell of dawning spring. Perfection. Kuvira could appreciate none of it.

“Get away from me,” she grumbled when Suyin reached down a hand to help her up.

The older woman smiled. “You were careless. Mastery of earthbending requires a calm, thoughtful mind. Aggression only makes it easier for your opponent to disrupt your base and topple you.”

“You always fight aggressively,” Kuvira said. “I’ve never seen you stand your ground and wait. You flip, you run, you’re more like an airbender. You fight like Tenzin.”

“And yet you can never catch me off balance, can you?”

Kuvira harrumphed and crossed her arms. Then she smiled. “I missed this.”

Suyin wagged a finger. “Now now, that’s not how this works. No breaking the rules.”

“Sifu Toph would have loved that I’m breaking the rules.”

“That she would.” Suyin laughed.

“I never wanted to lose this. I never wanted to lose Zaofu.”

“I could tell you it’s possible to get Zaofu back. But it would be a lie, and you know it would be a lie.”

“There has to be some way.”

“Perhaps. But I’m not the one to tell the truth of the matter. If you want to know how I really feel, you would have to ask the real Suyin. Not the dream of days long past.”

“It’s not about you,” Kuvira hissed. “You aren’t Zaofu, no matter how much you think the city ceases to exist without you. Zaofu is the domes above your head.” The domes she’d torn apart. “It’s the smells from the kitchen.” The kitchen she’d raided and stolen from to sustain her march. “It’s the people.” The people she had enslaved or imprisoned. “I never betrayed you, Suyin. I betrayed Zaofu. I betrayed the only home I’ve ever had. I miss it more than anything, and even if it meant making peace with you, I would do anything to get it back.”

She turned and walked from the training grounds. When she looked back, Suyin was gone. The domes turned red and rocky, the smell of pastries became smoke, and a brilliant light blinded her. She was back in the cave, sprawled on the ground and surrounded by a thousand bits of jagged rock. Bolin rubbed at his head. The Fire Nation soldiers stared dumbfounded, unable to comprehend their survival. Mako lay motionless beside Ms. Sato, who stared wide-eyed up at the Avatar.

Kuvira’s mouth gaped open. The Avatar levitated above the ground, her eyes glowing and her clothes rippling as a cyclone of air rotated around her. Ghazan snarled. A rotating disk of lava spun above his hand, and he tossed it. Korra caught the heated rock in her hand and crumbled it as easily as she would mushy bread.

A familiar fear gripped Kuvira’s lungs in metal vises, expelling old breath and disallowing the new. It was a fear that had broken Kuvira five years ago. The fear that lingered in the crowd the way she used to linger at the rear of her armies, ready for those who dared to defy her. Her vision swam purple as a beam of indiscriminate death repaid her use of its power with betrayal.

That Ghazan chose to defy the Avatar’s power told Kuvira all she needed to know of his madness. His passion and resistance was admirable. He raised high towers of shimmering lava, threw dagger-sharp spikes of glimmering rock, tore down sections of ceiling to fall down on Korra, Mako, and Ms. Sato. His attacks were effortlessly tossed aside, and Ghazan turned towards Bolin and the firebenders. Dirty black teeth bared as Ghazan broke the cave wall behind them and pulled them down.

Kuvira had always thought of Bolin as one of the more promising benders she’d ever seen. She was reminded why as he caught the collapsing rock. A weak blaze of fire distracted Ghazan, and Kuvira saw Mako struggling to his feet to fire off another. Bolin heated the rock, liquefying it, and tossed it at the Red Lotus leader. Ghazan caught the rock and began closing it around him, creating another dome.

He was finally open. Kuvira let the final two metal strips at her waist fly. One caught the lavabender around a wrist, the other around an ankle. The cooled lava surrounding him collapsed to the floor, bits of it falling in the now-empty moat. Someone shouted as Ms. Sato leaped the length of it. Her gloves hand crackled and closed around Ghazan’s ankle. In an example of one of life’s many stark contrasts, the large, gruff, dangerous, lavabender sounded the moment of his defeat with a whimpering, high-pitched squeal.

The Avatar breathed in deep, her eyes lost their glow, and she lowered herself to the ground.

Azao sent his men to cuff the unconscious Ghazan while “Team Avatar” converged into a single joyous celebration of whooping voices and ensnaring limbs. Identifying the chemistry between the four was as easy then as in combat; Bolin jumped around and screamed, Mako was reserved, on the fringe and patting backs, Asami moved from hug to hug, settling on her lover as if she’d disappear without the contact. All three converged on their leader. For Korra was their compass. She was their light, the gravitational body they all revolved around. The Avatar was diplomatic even in her affections. She showed the same joy with all of her friends, moving to each one of them for a whispered word and a private smile.

Kuvira remembered a bandit attack on Zaofu, shortly after she joined the city guard. Insignificant, desperate beggars, half-starved and half-clothed, but they’d picked a convoy leaving the city with an eight-year-old Opal and her father in tow. Kuvira hardly remembered the search or the fight. She could remember the reunion as if she stood in that canyon yesterday. Suyin hugging her daughter and husband close, Kuvira surrounded by a mob of similarly uniformed guards, all of them converging in contrastingly formless celebration. Opal had run among them, her parents close behind, to join in their cheering. Kuvira had knelt to hug the girl harder than anyone she’d ever hugged in her life.

The metalbender’s reverie was interrupted by a familiar hand clapping her broad shoulders. Korra’s grin was all lopsided relief. “Good work, Kuvira. Very good work. You proved yourself to a lot of people today, and I’ll make damn sure a lot more people hear about it.”

“Thank you, Avatar,” Kuvira said, finding herself smiling as well. “I was happy to help put scum like these Red Lotus in prison, where they belong.”

Korra scowled. “Avatar? We talked about this.”

Kuvira couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you, Korra.”

A strong pair of arms lifted her off the ground, Bolin showing no reservation in celebrating with the woman who had nearly killed him. Mako nodded and gave his thanks. Even Ms. Sato offered brief, respectful gratitude. Azao and the firebenders converged on them, their joy a hammer cracking Kuvira’s stern exterior.

She had to admit, it felt good to smile, and better to laugh. But as is the way with life and human greed, she couldn’t help but want more.

Chapter Text

Korra knew the idea had been whimsical nonsense, a fantasy born in the dreams of victory and hope. So much had changed since that first day she walked into Kuvira’s prison cell, Kuvira had changed so much, and in the aftermath of Ghazan’s defeat, the Avatar had thought perhaps other things could change. She would have gone to see Zaheer anyway. Ghazan was a friend, and he deserved to know. The two had been friends for many, many years, had fought and bled together, had formed a bond that only constant hardship stared down by each others’ sides could forge. Korra knew what it was to lose. Maybe through loss some form of understanding and redemption could take place, and the seeds could be planted to sprout yet another tree from the rotten earth of evil and murder.

As she watched Zaheer snarl, his eyes bright with mourning and rage, Korra’s fantasy toppled over, the fledgling roots ripped out of the ground.

“Why am I alive?” the airbender whispered. “If he must die, why do I still live?”

“I don’t know,” Korra said. “It was not my choice. You may not believe it, but I had very little say in the decision. The decision was made that there was too much risk if both you and Ghazan live. They said the only reason you were imprisoned rather than executed is because we assumed the others were already dead. No one wanted to take the chance again of imprisoning you both again.”

“So they wish to break my will. Even chained here, you all fear me.” Zaheer smiled proud and dangerous as a spotted lion. “I suppose there’s a certain pride I can take in your fear.”

“Zaheer, it doesn’t have to be this way. You don’t have to spend the rest of your life caged like an animal. Everyone can change, everyone. If you-”

The imprisoned airbender flew forward, his chains snapping taut when he reached their limit. To her credit, Korra did not so much as flinch. She held no fear towards Zaheer.

“Spare me,” he said. “I am no impressionable girl to cower into a formless blob, easily malleable to fit whatever notion of ‘good’ and ‘lawful’ you subscribe to. I am not your friend, Avatar, and I make no apologies for who I am.”

Why had she expected differently? Korra blinked long and sadly. “Goodbye. I hope one day you can make peace with the world.”

She found herself unable to stop thinking over the imprisoned terrorist’s mindset, unable to find any viewpoint through which she could willingly and unapologetically cut herself off from the world. She tried and tried to arrange the pieces into a puzzle that made sense, and only found herself growing angrier. Was it something ingrained into the mind during childhood? Had Zaheer grown too used to hatred and isolation and willingly cut his lifeline to the world?

Korra shook her head, letting out a growling sigh. She’d grown up alone. No friends, no freedom, nothing but discipline and expectations as her companions. Thirteen years in a White Lotus compound may have made a social klutz out of her, but it hadn’t stopped her from finding friends and love and a reason to care, a reason to want to see the world thrive. To the Fog with it, she decided. She didn’t want to understand the mindset of a person like that.

She couldn’t fool Asami, though. Of course not. When her girlfriend found her staring up at the sky outside their airship, her decision to forget already forgotten, there was no hiding the way her mind still tried to mash together jigsaw pieces that did not fit. A fading bruise still marred her jaw line, and the fading remnants of a scab beneath her cheek was proving stubborn to heal, but otherwise she had healed entirely from the fight with Ghazan. And the smile adorning her face seemingly permanently nowadays drew the eye far more than a bruise or scab ever could.

“Do you think I’m finally getting used to the cold?” Asami asked. “I don’t have a coat on and I can barely feel it.”

Korra looked down at her bare arms, and then at the ocean below. An ocean entirely devoid of ice. “Don’t brag. We’re not at the South Pole yet, Sami.”

To say the Avatar was looking forward to going home was an understatement like “a rock is hard” or “water might make you wet.” She really was happy. She really did want to go home. Korra had not seen her parents in months, admittedly no stranger than usual, but she never stopped missing them. Her smile when she turned to look at Asami was genuine. But she knew when Asami’s face fell that it wasn’t the smile her fiancé wanted to see.

And of course Asami needed to find the truth of it. She was a problem solver, a puzzle-piecer, her life revolved around the finding and resolving of those tiny hiccups that could cause an entire project to fail. Korra tried a little bit harder with her smile, but it was too late. The effect was like taking a blueprint Asami had memorized and placing it on a wall a couple feet further away. She could see every detail sure as if the thing had never moved.

“Why do you think I still can’t handle the cold?” Asami asked, ignoring the weakness she must have seen in the structure. Korra’s surprise kept her lips clamped shut. “Last time we visited I was the only one brave enough to go outside during that storm and figure out why the generator shut down.”

“And you were bundled up like Naga with two big blankets wrapped around her. When you came back inside you didn’t leave the fireplace for the rest of the night.”

“From what I recall, you didn’t mind.”

Korra looked down, cheeks burning. Zaheer was forgotten, the moment long passed. Asami had known not to solve the problem, but to ignore it entirely. She knew Korra better than Korra knew herself. There was a reason the Avatar loved her so much. “Thanks, Sami.”

Korra grinned wide as the Great Divide when Asami kissed her on the cheek. “You’ll talk when you’re ready.”
When the snow started falling, light infantry breaking apart as they charged the heated air around the airship, Korra’s melancholy melted alongside them. By the time the airship descended upon the landing pad near her parents’ home, an amendment to the area Asami had insisted upon hiring workers to build two years ago, Korra was her usual self; warm, smiling, giddy, all the worries of her life shoved aside. Going home never failed to make her a little kid again. Right now, she wanted nothing more.

Her father was frowning at the airship when she and Asami stepped off the ramp, Naga barreling past them both and dashing head first into the snow. His muscled arms were crossed over his barrel chest. “I still don’t understand the problem with coming here on a ship.”

“Convenience,” Asami said. “Privacy. Proximity. Flying is better.”

Tonraq frowned deeper. “Flying is not better.”

Korra walked past, grinning. They’d picked up the debate as if the pause had occurred two hours ago instead of six months. Her mother waited at her father’s side, silent and smiling as ever. Korra hugged her tight and lifted her off the ground. Meek as she might appear to outsiders, and ever the devoted housewife, she left no doubt who controlled family matters when she ceased Tonraq and Asami’s increasingly emphatic argument with a single hand upon Tonraq’s forearm. “I don’t think our daughter and her girlfriend came here to argue in the cold.”

Tonraq took a moment to let the cold chill his temper. “Of course not. Asami, later?”

“You bet,” Asami said with a smile.

They caught up over home-baked fish and crab stew, one of Senna’s specialties and a taste that flooded Korra back to the too few nights the White Lotus allowed her to go home. Asami talked at length about her attempts to design planes large enough for commercial travel, which inevitably led to good-natured discussion over building an airstrip near the landing pad. Tonraq offered advice on her and Varrick’s collaboration aimed at designing the next generation of shipping tankers. Senna chimed in with the latest gossip around the Tribe. None of them seemed to notice Korra’s silence, or mentioned it if they did.

After dinner, Korra traveled out into the snowfall and found Naga sniffing around. Even the polar bear dog seemed happier. Which, of course, made sense since this was her home as well. She’d missed it just as much as Korra. Naga woofed happily when she noticed Korra and continued sniffing around, reacquainting herself with the smells of snow, cold wood, and bare trees.

Senna found Korra leaning against a tool shed while Naga rolled in the frost. “She’s happy. And big. When did she get that big?”

“Naga’s been this big for a while,” Korra said. “I guess it’s because you haven’t seen her in a while.”

“I guess. I don’t get to see her enough.”
Korra looked away guiltily. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Don’t be. The only way I could see Naga enough is if I saw her every day.”

They stood there silently, long after Naga caught some scent and bound off out of sight in a plume of snow.

“You look happy, sweetie.”

Korra glanced over at her mother. “Sure. Is there some reason I shouldn’t?”

Senna shrugged. “I know you love being the Avatar, and I know you take great pride in the responsibility, but too many times I’ve seen you frown afterwards. When Kya told us about Zuko’s murder and your vow to help find his killer, I was sure you would be sad the next time I saw you.”

Thinking on it, so did Korra. She was not blind to the depression her mother spoke of. That night when she promised to help Fire Lord Izumi carry out justice, she’d been sure she’d feel it again when her duty was done.

“I…I think I finally found an acceptance, Mom. Ever since Zaheer, and Kuvira’s rise in his wake, I’ve always obsessed over the aftermath of my actions. I’ve always hesitated, wondering if I was giving birth to another monster, an even worse monster than the one I just rid the world of. Now I’m realizing how stupid that is. None of the Avatars before me could rid the world entirely of crime and evil. I’m finally accepting that it was really egotistical of me to think I could do the impossible, no matter how powerful I am.”

“You’ve done the impossible before, sweetie,” Senna said. “Just not in this case. And I’m glad you’re starting to notice. You’ve always thought you should be able to do anything just because you’re the Avatar. Sometimes I wondered if you remembered you were also Korra. I always worried.”

Korra smiled. “Thank Asami for that. And my friends.”

“I have. Many times.” Senna smiled. “I’m also surprised to see you so happy, since many girls a month out from their wedding don’t look so at peace.”

“Maybe it hasn’t hit me yet. I don’t think it has.”

Senna scoffed. “You and Asami have spent weeks calling us to make arrangements. Guest lists, seating charts, flowers, on and on. And you’ve been personally involved, not handing everything off to Asami. It’s hit you, and you’re excited. Because you’re marrying the right person.”

She was. Korra smiled. She really was. “And Dad?”

“He wouldn’t bother arguing with Asami like he does if he didn’t like her. I’m surprised, because they are just enough alike to usually cause problems, but they avoid it somehow.”

“That’s because Dad knows how much you love Sami, and she knows how much I love Dad. And they love us too much to not love someone we love so much.” Korra noticed the snow growing heavier. “Still, let’s get on back before they get too involved in something stupid. Remember when they tinkered with your oven?”

Korra laughed when her mother’s face went pale as the ice falling around them.

Chapter Text

Kuvira had long ago learned that everything happens in small steps. The mistake of the rash was their inability to allow each of those steps to occur before committing to the next. The mistake of the overambitious and the overconfident was their inability to foresee the stumbles, to plan for the inevitability of a single misstep stubbing a toe or the women who walks down the stairs in the opposite direction, slowing their next step or halting it entirely. It was too easy for most to become impatient with the process of one step after the other. It was too easy to jump a step ahead without watching where they put their feet.

For three years, Kuvira had been an expert at that process. She had been patient beyond patient. She had taken advantage of everyone else’s haste. She had set traps on the path and watched gleefully as they tripped those in her way. Yet when she was on the cusp of victory, when she most needed to take a moment to consider her next step, even Kuvira had succumbed to that same impatience. Republic City was nearly hers. The Avatar, the only hope of repelling her, was in that Future Industries factory. One moment could eliminate Kuvira of the one obstacle capable of tripping her. So she had stepped without looking, and tripped.

Five years in a cell had re-taught the patience forgotten that day. Kuvira knew redemption was a staircase to climb one hard fought step at a time. She had already climbed a few. Today she hoped to complete another step taken months earlier.

Compared to the hostility of their first meeting, Opal might as well have been Kuvira’s best friend. She still refused herself a smile as she strode the metalbender’s way, but the memory of one played at the corners, a pleasant feeling begging to be felt again. Kuvira stood to greet the younger girl. “I’m glad you came. And the others?”

“They’ll be here soon,” Opal said.

The two women sat across from each other, eyes locking in struggle to see which would reveal emotion first. One would think the earthbender holds an advantage against an airbender in such a struggle, at least with all things equal. Those who might say so did not know Opal Beifong, and soon Kuvira found herself unable to suppress her relief. She had worried Opal would not show. And if she did, that the others had refused.

“So,” the airbender continued, “I’ve heard a lot about Ghazan’s defeat.”

“I’m sure. The Avatar did the world a great favor.”

“Not just the Avatar. Mako was given a promotion for his help. A sergeant in the Fire Nation army was promoted to lieutenant.” Opal grinned wide and bashful. “Bolin had a parade thrown in his honor back in Republic City. He told me there are already plans to make a mover out of it.”

“They all did well. They deserve it.”

Opal nodded. “They wanted to celebrate Korra, too, but she’s holed up in the South Pole.”

A waitress appeared to take their orders. Opal waved her away, asking a few more moments to think their choice over. “She invited me. It came as a great surprise.”

“Why? Korra’s not really a grudge holder. Not anymore, anyway. And you were there with her. She’s sworn up and down that we should give you a second chance.”

Kuvira’s smile was slight, but she couldn’t prevent it. “I know. Her wishes are not why I was surprised. I assume my presence would be too much a distraction for Ms. Sato and too controversial among her guests.”

“So you’re not going?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Opal frowned. “You should. If Korra wants you there, she definitely made sure it was okay first. So you should go. Don’t worry about the rest of us.”

“I’d rather not think about it. I still have a few days where it’s possible to book passage on a ship before I have to decide.”

The door to the diner opened and three familiar faces entered, dressed in casual green tones with the badge of Zaofu stitched on the sleeves. Liu was the first to spot Kuvira, and his long face widened when he smiled. The patchy stubble on his face almost pulled the laughter from the pit of her stomach. Twenty-three now, or near enough to make no difference, and he was still trying to grow a beard.

He half-jogged over to the table where Kuvira and Opal sat, with Guotin and Tsun following behind. “Captain,” Liu greeted.

“I’m not your captain anymore.”

“You’re always our captain, captain.”

Tsun took a seat to Kuvira’s left. A new scar ran down his forearm. “Watch it, Liu. You don’t want the wrong people to hear that you don’t despise the Captain, or you might end up back on night patrol and latrine duty.”

Kuvira frowned while Guotin sat at the table. “That’s not why we are here. I didn’t want to see you out of petty desire to hear dirt about Zaofu. Be grateful Suyin took you back, and continue to work your way back into her good graces.” The three soldiers quieted, shoulders bunching around their necks. Kuvira grinned at them. “I hear from Opal that you three are doing well.”

“Not as good as you,” Liu said. “Ghazan? Quite the name to your legend, Captain.”

“To the Avatar’s name, you mean.”
“No, Captain,” Liu said. “We’ve heard all about your assistance in the matter. So come on, tell us the real story. We didn’t come here to talk about ourselves.”

The waitress came back, and the group placed their orders. Kuvira sipped at a cup of hot chocolate while she told her former friends and subordinates about her travels. She told them about her release, helping rebuild the Earth Kingdom, and the Red Lotus attack on Ba Sing Se. She told the story of fighting Ghazan in entirely too factual fashion, and her audience frowned at the lack of exaggeration. She told them of the last few weeks in the care of the Republic City Police Force, where she’d spent most of her days in Detective Mako’s apartment staring out the window.

It hadn’t been so bad. Mako rarely slept the night in his apartment, often popping in only to grab a bite to eat before leaving again. The officers posted outside were lax in their attention and never denied Kuvira’s inclinations to wander the city. The metalbender had been far from alone, however. Tenzin, the leader of the airbenders had visited, as had President Hanago, Chie Lin Beifong, a representative from Future Industries, and Varrick. Varrick had been a surprise. He blathered on as if the conflict between the two had never existed, though Zhu Li had lingered silently with violence sparkling like knife points in his eyes.

Kuvira glanced over where the two officers currently on duty stood outside, neither paying the slightest attention. It would have been so easy to run at that moment. Opal might inform them, but the others wouldn’t. Kuvira could see in their eyes that they felt every ounce of the loyalty from before. She wasn’t sure whether to accept that loyalty or lecture it towards a more useful leader.

“You’re still the best, Captain,” Guotin said. His green eyes had lost much of their once irrepressibly innocent glow. “I wish we still served under you.”

“Zaofu sucks,” Liu said. “Those of us Suyin took back are treated like garbage. A lot of us left already. More are leaving all the time. I swear she’s trying to drive us out.”

Tsun leaned back, scratching at his scar. “She’s scared. She knows we know the truth. She’s scared Kuvira’s going to come back because she knows we’ll all leave again in a heartbeat. You’re still our captain, Captain. You say the word and-”

“Hey!” Opal jumped to her feet in a swirl of wind that tipped over the cups not held in hand. “That’s my mother you’re talking about!”

“And the woman who taught me everything I know,” Kuvira joined in. Years had rusted her practice with intimidation. Not too much, to judge by the fleeing color in the faces of those around her. “If you don’t respect her, leave. But do not think you are better than her if you lack the courage to find your own path and look to her to blaze it for you.”

Harsh, Kuvira knew. But necessary. She kept her expression hard as metal while the Zaofu guards sunk into their chairs. “Apologies, Captain.”
Kuvira calmed herself. “You know how I feel about Suyin Beifong. But compromising her authority comprises Zaofu as well. And I still love that city. You’re good soldiers, and good people. Zaofu needs you. It’s our home.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Okay.” the metalbender smiled over at Opal. “So how about you?”

They parted a few hours later with hugs and promises to see each other again soon. Opal decided to accompany Kuvira back to the apartment. Kuvira set off happily down the street with her friend at her side. For the first time since leaving Zaofu, she truly believed she could call Opal a friend.

“You have to come to Korra and Asami’s wedding,” the airbender stated in a tone brooking no argument. A voice of authority the young woman had comfortably adopted. “I’ll drag you there myself if I have to.”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“Not anymore. Korra wants you there and I want you there.”

Kuvira smiled, tight-lipped and restrained. “Opal, I’ll think about it. You can try and drag me there if you want, but I’m still sure I can take you.”

Opal scoffed. “That sounded like a challenge.”

“You bet.”

“Then we’ll settle it at Korra and Asami’s wedding.”

“Nice try.” Opal pouted, her bottom lip stuck out the way she used to when she begged the cooks for a pastry. “Speaking of weddings, when are you and Bolin holding your own?”

Opal snapped her head away. “Let’s change the subject.”

“I wonder which of you is the reason you’re not married yet.”

Opal shook her head, flapped a burst of wind into the flaps of her costume, and soared away. Kuvira watched her go, laughing until the airbender was out of sight. The police moved to flank her, and Kuvira continued back towards the apartment.

She was still in the dark as to the future. Korra’s marriage would certainly occupy her time for the foreseeable future. No plans had been made before Kuvira was left in Republic City. Tenzin and Hanago had appeared uninformed when she asked them, offering only vague promises that “she would be utilized in the way which best fit her skills.” She supposed she could continue assisting around the Earth Kingdom. It was still her home, and her goal when she left Zaofu had not died alongside her ambitions of an empire. She still wished to see her home nation maximize its potential, to help everyone who lived there receive the benefits and opportunities offered to her as a child, benefits and opportunities too few would ever receive. There were too many Fenfangs in the Earth Kingdom, children bright and powerful, with all the potential in the world gone to waste. She would help them. Somehow, she’d find a way to help them. And maybe her friends could help as well.

That night, she went to sleep with a decided direction and the friendship to make it a reality. She’d completed a substantial step on the path forward.

Chapter Text

It is a strange thing to see one's entire life gathered in a single place. Korra watched a dozen separate conversations between people who all knew a different version of her. Water Tribesman who knew her as a self-important, bratty girl talked with the friends who knew Korra only for her selflessness. Hanago, the President of the United Republic who knew the Avatar as a combative political rival, shared a platter of shrimp with Desna and Eska, who knew Korra as a cousin and one-time combat rival. Tenzin and Pema, who considered her a daughter, fussed over their children, who looked up to her as an older sister. Having so much of her life in one place made Korra realize how different she was to so many people, and how much even those she held dearest did not know about her.

The guest list had bloated a bit beyond Korra's initial hopes. She wasn't very happy about Hanago being at her wedding. There were too many unrecognizable faces. She was lukewarm about Varrick's presence, but that had been at Asami's insistence. The same with Hanago and most of Korra's undesired guests. "Like it or not," Asami had said, "our wedding is a political function."

A squealing laugh, drunk off both wine and joy, brought Korra's attention back to the one person who knew everything there was to know about the Avatar. Asami had accepted no less. Like the machines she built in her factories, she had disassembled Korra down to the most intricate systems of her being, and rebuilt her until she knew how every gear turned, every wire connected, and every system related to the others. There was nothing about Korra that Asami did not know intimately.

Which, of course, had led them to today. Korra could never have hoped for more. Well, that wasn't true. She could and did hope for more, but as of this particular moment, she would change nothing. Every hardship in her life had been worth it for the delirious happiness she felt that day.

Korra stood from the table and kissed her wife on the temple, leaving her to her conversation with Varrick. Wedding day or no, they were still too powerful to avoid their responsibilities. And Korra still had one more responsibility to handle before she could lose herself entirely to her joy.

Kuvira's presence had been a bit of surprise despite Korra's invitation, but her conduct throughout had not. She had stood at the rear of the benches during the ceremony. She had talked with almost no one before and after. Korra navigated the tables in the long hall, accepting congratulations and making small talk as she went, and was not surprised to find the metalbender gone. A blast of cold the Avatar hardly felt forced through the entrance when she opened the doors.

She found the metalbender kneeling in the snow, a chunk of gray metal flowing through the gaps between her fingers. A coat swallowed her large frame, but she still huddled into herself to ward off the cold. Korra felt a breeze slap against her bared arms and tug at the skirts around her feet. She was a child of the cold.

"Thank you so much for coming," Korra said, smirking when Kuvira jumped. "I know I already said that, but I'm saying it again."

The liquefied metal in hardened into a shapeless chunk, and she stood. Beneath the coat she wore a loose-fitting green dress with a polished steel necklace covering her from neck to chest. Her hair fell unrestrained around her neck and shoulders, and there was even a light base of makeup on her face, courtesy of Opal. That Kuvira had showed up made Korra happy enough. That she had dressed up was something of an honor.

"I was a bit forced," the metalbender said. "Opal wouldn't take no for an answer. And…I wished to cause no offense by declining your invitation. Especially with all you've done for me. Appreciation through attendance was the least I could do to begin repaying your faith in me."

"It wasn't that serious," Korra said.

"I still wished to cause no offense." Kuvira bent to pick up the metal from the snow. "Why are you here in the snow? Shouldn't you be with your bride? You both look lovely, by the way. The ceremony was wonderful. Mrs. Sato has good taste."

Korra scoffed. "I'll have you know I was every bit as involved as she was, and that Sami's genius in design does not extend into decoration nearly as much as everyone assumes."

"My apologies," Kuvira said, smirking.

Despite the cold, no snow had fallen for three days, and the sky was a brilliant azure. Not a single cloud marred the beauty. "So, I have no idea what I'm going to do with you. Sorry if that just sounded weird. Um, I guess you could stick around or a week or two while I make arrangements. I'm sure Mako wouldn't mind if you stayed in his apartment a little longer if you don't want to deal with the cold. I've been…distracted, to say the least."

"I know." Kuvira lifted her chin. "I've already made arrangements. With your permission of course, I would like to begin assisting King Shoma of Omashu in reinforcing his city's walls and training the city's defense force. King Shoma has agreed, and we wait only for your opinion on the matter. If you had some other task in mind, I can postpone these plans."

Korra stared dumbly, mouth agape. She hadn't expected this. It was only when she noticed Kuvira's expression somber that she shook off her stupor. "No, no! That's, yeah that's fine, um, okay. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I'll have to clear it with President Hanago and the Earth Kingdom Council. They'll probably want to designate an escort to watch you. Sorry."

"I would expect nothing less."

"Guess this means we won't be seeing so much of each other anymore?"

"I hope that's not a consequence." Kuvira frowned. "You're one of the few I could call a friend, Avatar. Despite our history, despite my crimes, you gave me a second chance and treated me with greater respect than any war criminal could expect. Omashu will not be permanent. Afterwards I hope to continue assisting around the Earth Kingdom, as you originally intended. We should come across each other at some point in our travels."

"I'd like that."

Korra stepped closer and offered her hand. Kuvira smiled and shook it. A snowball struck hard into Korra's hip, followed by sloppy laughter. Another exploded in a cloud of crystal dust on Kuvira's shoulder. Korra caught two more aimed their way, melting them short.

"You're ruining my dress, you jerks!" she shouted.

"Mine's already ruined," Asami said, packing another snowball in her hands. The melt off ran over her jewelry. A large wet spot shined dark at her side.

"I'm Korra, I worry about getting my frilly dresses wet," Bolin teased. Opal laughed sent another snowball Korra's way, using her airbending to speed up its flight.

"Are you scared?" Mako said. "We have maybe ten minutes before anyone comes outside looking for us. Come on."

Korra shook her head. Kuvira backed away, muscles tensed beneath her dress and ready to spring loose into action. "You should all have learned something in all the time you've known me," Korra said angrily. Drifts of snow kicked up around her feet, swirling in a cyclone, melting and freezing and packing themselves into hardened orbs. "You don't mess with the Avatar!"

By the time Korra's parents, accompanied by Tenzin and the Fire Lord, came outside to stop the fight, Korra's dress was soaked through, as were the dress clothes of everyone else in the fight. All five participants were shouted at, chastised, and hurried inside. Korra huddled close to Asami, ignoring the uncomfortable way her dress clung to her skin. Final congratulations were spoken, a toast was made, and the newlyweds were hurried down a narrow pathway packed to either side by wedding guests.

Korra didn't remember climbing on Naga's back. She didn't remember when they left the hall behind. When she noticed nothing but snow in any direction, she tapped Naga to a halt. "Right here is good for now, girl."

Asami was still giggling, still smiling, still sloppily relaxed. And of course her wet dress fit to her in a way that made Korra want to throw her down and take her right then. "We should have taken a car," Asami said. "Then someone else could drive."

She giggled again, and nearly toppled off of Naga. "We are entirely too…happy," Korra said.

"We deserve it! How often do we get to just be happy? We always have to be happy with reservation. We won, but the bad guy got away. The new Satomobile model is completed, but it will be a year before release. They were released, but we had to recall them. The Earth Kingdom Council agreed on this, but only if that happens. You'll be home for two weeks, but gone for two months after. We can only ever be so happy at any particular time. I have an excuse to be very, very happy today, and or the next three weeks. So I'm going to be happy!"

Korra grinned, agreeing completely. She took a moment to regain her bearings, and steered Naga south.

Asami's confusion grew as they traveled, though a flicker of sober recognition sparked dim as they neared the spirit portal. She said nothing when the beam came into sight, towering blue above the winding ice cliffs, but hugged Korra tighter. The cliffs gave way and the valley came into view. Past the snow-covered walls surrounding the portal, the once gnarled trees surrounding its base were covered in thousands of golden leaves, the last of fall before winter stripped them.

"Korra…" Asami whispered.

"I thought it was a good idea," the Avatar said, blushing. How did Asami still manage to do that to her? "We started with a spirit portal. And we had a lot of fun once we entered it. I though it was a pretty good idea."

"We don't have a change of clothes, or any supplies," Asami protested. Very, very weakly, Korra noticed. Two White Lotus guards emerged from a decrepit guardhouse beyond the walls. They carried a pair of backpacks in their arms. "Wait, since when do you plan ahead?"

"Your good influence, Mrs. Sato," Korra said, still blushing.

They took the backpacks, slipped them over their shoulders, and began walking down the path between the trees. Naga followed at distance, sniffing at the trees. When they emerged into the clearing holding the spirit portal, all three stopped.

"Well, Mrs. Sato?" Asami said.

Korra smiled beyond stupidly. Mrs. Sato. She liked it. The newlyweds took each others' hands, much the same as they had five years prior. "Always. Forever."

She thought back on the first time she'd walked hand in hand into a spirit portal with Asami. Amidst the wreck of Republic City, in the aftermath of Kuvira's attack and arrest, both their hearts still heavy with loss. Hopelessness still hung heavy over their heads. Victory had come at a high price. Republic City was destroyed. Asami's factory and home were gone. Hiroshi's death still darkened her sparkling emerald eyes. She wished Hiroshi could have been at the wedding today. His absence was one problem she could not solve.

A different hope filled her now. It was a different world they left behind. A world where a war criminal could redeem herself. Where new friendships could be forged. Where the Air Nation was fully established, the Earth Kingdom was transforming, the Water Tribes enjoyed a friendship and the Fire Nation broke its isolationism. Where Korra had a new name. A better world that she and her friends had created.

Asami turned towards Korra as they entered the portal. "I love you. I love you so, so much."

Korra kissed her wife deeply. "I love you, too." She looked back down the path. "Naga! Come on, girl!"

The polar bear dog loped down the path in huge, quick strides, her tongue lolling happily. She barreled into the two newlyweds, and they hugged her as the portal took them.

Chapter Text

For probably the fifth day in a row, Asami walked into her mansion determined to make it the last night she walked into her mansion. The servants would be somewhere. She heard none of them. Just the thud off the floor beneath her boots in the dark and the echoing whine of the stairs while she climbed, bouncing off the high ceiling and mocking the emptiness.

She had not been too fond of the estate since her father was arrested. Asami took every opportunity to spend her time elsewhere. Hotels, her offices, her factories, Air Temple Island, anywhere else. Still, she spent more time there than not when her friends were still around. Asami smiled as she walked into her bedroom, which smelled more like an unused guest room than anyone’s usual sleeping quarters. Her friends had made the estate bearable in those initial days. Mako in the gym. Bolin in the garden. Korra in the pool, her dark, exposed skin rippling with muscle and dripping wet.

Asami shook her head. She didn’t want to think about Korra tonight. She spent too much time thinking about Korra. Somehow, she’d managed to maintain herself for two years. She’d managed to miss Korra a little less with each day. There came a point when Asami realized she hadn’t thought about her friend for over a week. Guilty pride had filled her heart.

Then came the letter. That stupid, awful, wonderful, life-saving letter that Asami had breathed in like a drowning woman whose mouth finally broke the surface of the water and could intake air. Every moment she thought had been wasted writing her own letters to Korra were suddenly worth it. Moments Asami had cursed herself over every night before then. As far as anyone knew, Korra could have been up and about, kicking bad guy butt somewhere. Or she could have been lying in bed, no better than the day she left Republic City. No one’s letters had been answered. Most had stopped writing. Only Tenzin, Ikki, and Asami still made the effort. Asami had decided to stop too many times worth counting. Yet she always found herself sitting at her desk writing.

The bed squeaked when Asami sat down to pull off her boots. Korra’s letter sat on her nightstand still, beside a book Asami had meant to read but hadn’t so much as flipped open to the first page. For as much as she’d cried over those few sentences of roughly scratched letters, she was surprised the paper wasn’t soaked through. What she wouldn’t give to be there with her friend. How many times had she nearly gone, only to chicken out at the last moment? That little voice, that rational Asami that ruled her life with an iron fist, always held her back.

Rationality had proven its control of Asami’s life in those weeks after Korra’s poisoning, beyond any doubt. Thank the spirits. Asami knew she was madly in love with her best friend, so madly in love that she’d almost been selfish enough to admit it, despite the pain and fear and sorrow crippling Korra’s mind every bit as much as the poison had crippled her body. The words had danced eagerly on her tongue before Korra left, had forced themselves into her fingers and transferred unwillingly to paper many a night. Somehow, Asami had avoided letting her feelings be known. Would she ever stop avoiding? She’d managed to avoid thinking about it for two years.

Korra’s stupid, wonderful letter had had that consequence as well. Two years bereft of contact allowed a manageable avoidance of Asami’s feelings. She’d convinced herself at one point that she’d been mistaken, that the trials and triumphs had grown a bond between her and Korra easily mistaken as something more. Stupid. Asami knew the difference between friendship and love. The dependence she’d formed towards Korra, the stomach pinching craving demanding close proximity, was not easily mistaken. Only by those of willful ignorance.

As certain as Asami was of her own feelings, reciprocation was an entirely different matter. Some days, when Korra’s gaze would linger just a breath too long or her fingertips would brush Asami’s arm a heartbeat too intimately, it was easy to think those feelings were shared. Then Korra would smile a certain way at Mako or talk about how cute some guy was and Asami would feel like a stupid kid taken by a magic trick. Some silly illusion dependent on the audience’s willingness to believe in its truth. And Asami was most certainly willing to believe it. Too much so.

She reached for the letter again, needing the sustaining breath it provided. Requited or unrequited, the antithetical self doubt in those words ached Asami’s heart. Korra was not a person of self doubt. Asami had never met anyone in her life to which such a description was so unsuited. Korra was a person of unshakeable faith in herself. The conflict she’d fought through, both of mind and body - the Equalist campaign, Amon’s theft of her bending, the loss of the Avatar’s past lives, and now the Red Lotus poisoning - would have broken anyone else. Korra was the only person Asami could imagine as capable of not only surviving through such ordeals, but thriving in them. She was walking again. That was a victory all its own. And while the Avatar was a fundamental piece of Korra’s being, that victory was enough for Asami. She would happily accept Korra, whether as a friend or something more, Avatar or not.

But Korra could not accept herself. And so Asami would wait until the day came where she could.

Asami sighed and slipped her boots back on. She would not sleep tonight. The letter resumed its mantle on her nightstand, a place of honor undeserving of the unopened stack back in her office, all belonging to her father. And as far as Asami was concerned, they would stay unopened. She wondered what her father would have thought of Korra. Whether he could put aside his bigotry for the sake of his daughter’s happiness. Even now a small skip of the gear in rational Asami told her he would. That he could change. That she should give him a second chance. She ignored it as best she could, left her bedroom, walked down the whining stairs and the thudding floor and back out into the night.

As usual, she found herself seated in Avatar Korra Park, staring wet-eyed at the statue of its namesake. Despite the tears threatening to fall, Asami couldn’t help but smile, imagining Korra’s blushing face when she finally saw it, how she’d mumble embarrassedly for a while, before the ego took over.

“That’s…something,” Korra would say. “A statue, wow. You didn’t…wow. I mean, I did save the city, but still, that’s crazy. And there’s no way I look that pretty. I don’t think. Although…it is pretty cool. My own statue just like Aang’s? Most Avatars get a statue eventually, so I should get used to the idea.” Then she’d grin that lopsided grin as her cockiness got the better of her. “And Republic City owes me something. How many people visit it a day? That’s awesome. About time I was showed a little gratitude and adoration. That’s awesome, Sami. Really awesome. My own statue!”

Somewhere off to her left, the clink of metal into concrete, soft as the wind, signaled a police chase. Cars followed each other down the streets with mechanical practice. A flock of bat geese fluttered in the sky above. Life had most certainly moved on in Republic City without Korra, but there was something missing. She had become a vital part of the city’s heartbeat, and without her it felt as if the heart didn’t beat as strongly. The blood was weaker, the body sluggish, and the chatter out of its mouth was strained and weak. Asami found herself listening for the sounds she had come to associate Republic City with; the squeal of her Satomobile’s tires, the arguments, the boisterous laugh that devolved into girly giggling, the hasty, reactionary destruction. The ghost of Korra’s presence was everywhere, clinging to the city like a fog.

Yet again, Asami wondered at leaving. She could be in the Southern Water Tribe in hours. She could leave Future Industries in any number of capable hands. Korra’s statue was but a facsimile, incomparable to the real thing and incapable of giving Asami the peace she craved.

Her offer two years ago had not been false or made out of comfort simply to Korra. Asami had packed three bags and made plans with her top executives already when she offered to leave with Korra. All despite knowing in her heart that her friend would not accept the offer. She had accepted it then, and she accepted it now, but watching Korra leave that day, watching the young woman she loved and around who her entire life had revolved disappear, leaving only a gaping void nothing else could fill, had been one of the hardest moments of her Asami’s life. She’d nearly begged Korra to change her mind.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Korra had said the night before, when Asami first offered to leave with her. She’d tried a cocky smile and failed miserably, another stab of cold at Asami’s heart. “I want you to come. I don’t want to not see you, but I think it’s best for now. I won’t be gone long. Not if I can help it. I need to be alone, to fight this myself. And…I don’t want my friends to see me this way.”

“I don’t care,” Asami had said. “You’re still Korra. You’re still my…best friend. I’d be happy to spend time with you, even like this.”

Korra’s smile had been a ghost of its former glory, but it was the most genuine she could manage. “I know. And I appreciate that, more than you know. But I’ll be back soon, I promise. At least, as soon as I can. You know me, Sami, you know I’ll fight this as hard as I can. So you wait right here, because when I get back we’re going to have a lot of butt kicking to catch up on!”

Asami smiled and stood from the bench, wrenching her eyes away from Korra’s statue. Exhaustion began to take hold, and her eyes were drooping closed as she stumbled back up the stairs towards her room. She fell heavily into her bed and kicked her boots off. She couldn’t manage the effort to strip the rest of her clothes off.
Her eyes shut for the last time that night, and Asami smiled. At least in her dreams she could still see Korra. And her friend was right. When Korra came back, they had a lot to catch up on. And a lot to be said between them. Asami would be sure of it.

Chapter Text

Prison cells are by their very nature a practice in habit and conformity. There simply wasn't a variety of activities to encourage any real differences in a person's day to day schedule. Kuvira could eat before she danced. She could read before she slept. She could exercise after lunch instead of breakfast. At the core, however, she was still performing the same activities in the same manner in the same prison.

So when the Avatar arrived for her visit with a companion at her side, Kuvira took immediate notice.

There was no smile for Kuvira today. Only uncertainty and self-doubt, as if Korra was still asking questions of herself and might abandon her plan at any moment. Ms. Sato seemed oblivious to the Avatar's hesitance. Her cool green eyes were narrowed in undisguised contempt towards the metalbender who inhabited the prison cell. She sat at one of the two chairs situated at the small, square wooden table. The Avatar took the other and pulled it to seat herself beside the other.

Kuvira placed her hands on her knees and kept her back straight as a steel wall. "Greetings, Avatar Korra. And you, Ms. Sato. This is something of a surprise."

"Er…yeah," Korra said, biting her bottom lip.

"How have you been since we last spoke?"

"Okay. Stressful."

Kuvira nodded. "I imagine. My life has been no different, of course."

Korra nodded and looked over at Ms. Sato. "Well, here you are. Say what you have to say."

Ms. Sato narrowed her gaze. "I'd rather you not be here, Korra."

"Too bad. Say it while I'm here or don't say it at all."

"I assure you, your friend is perfectly safe in my company," Kuvira said. "And I can most certainly defend myself in the event she throws the first punch."

The older woman gritted her teeth. "I'm not letting you two tear each other apart," Korra said. "The only reason you'd want to be alone is to fight. So I'm staying, and if Sami has suddenly decided she has nothing to say after all, she can wait outside until I'm done visiting."

Kuvira shrugged and waited as the raven-haired beauty seated nearby took a deep breath, curled her hands into fists, and released them. "Korra has told me she's considering approaching the world's leaders to bargain your early release. I want to know what lies you've told her to make her think that's a good idea."

"You're lying."

"I quite honestly do not care if you think I am lying."

"Sami," Korra said. "She's never said a word about being released. I've never even asked her about it."

"Then why?" Asami turned green fire on the Avatar. "Why are you doing this?"

Korra did not so much as flinch. Kuvira admired her strength. "Because I believe she can pay for her crimes in a more useful way than wasting in this cell."

Kuvira wondered what she had ever said or done to inspire such belief in the Avatar towards her potential redemption. The subject had come up only once between them, and never in the form of any conversation. The Avatar had mentioned her belief that Kuvira could still do good in the world. The metalbender had expressed doubt that she'd ever be given the chance. Ms. Sato's claim was the first she'd heard of it since.

"She's horrible!" the powerful CEO said. "She betrayed your closest friends and tried to kill them. She enslaved the Earth Kingdom and was responsible for the murder of thousands. She killed my father!"

Kuvira closed her eyes and tried her best to still the shaking in her hands. The grudge was personal. Of course it was. Kuvira had seen throughout her life that humanity's worst crimes could be forgiven in time, except by those directly affected. Murder, corruption, enslavement, war crimes, all could be forgiven by those watching from a distance, those who could evaluate every aspect of these crimes and reach conclusions allowing them to forgive. Such perspective was simply impossible by those at the epicenter of a conflict.

Hiroshi Sato's death, and its gruesome manner, had not been made known to Kuvira until her trial. She had not denied it. There was no point. She had no way of knowing who specifically was in the suit she had crushed. Based on the recollections she'd heard, it very easily could have been both father and daughter who perished beneath her mech's hand. She wondered what mercy and faith the Avatar would think her worth if Ms. Sato had been killed as well.

"How many other fathers did she kill? How many more would she kill if she was released and went right back to pressing the Earth Kingdom beneath her thumb? Korra, sweetheart, what if…what if this time she does kill you?"

Kuvira frowned. Perhaps Hiroshi Sato was a secondary issue here. "Avatar, is it at all possible to allow me a moment alone with your lover?"

"Of course not," Korra said. "We already talked about this."

"Please," the metalbender said. She ignored Ms. Sato's suspicious squint. "I believe Ms. Sato and I may reach some understanding if you were not present."

The Avatar pursed her lips and snorted. Her lover never broke her fiery stare. "I'm right outside that door and I will seriously kick both your butts if you don't behave yourselves."

She stood, walked out, and slammed the door behind her. Kuvira just managed not to laugh at her pouting expression. The Avatar had changed greatly since Kuvira first met her in Zaofu, had grown up a great deal, but she was still a definably impatient and stubborn young woman.

Kuvira turned her attention back to Ms. Sato. She remembered quite well her first impression of the beautiful, powerful young CEO. Like the majority would, she assumed Ms. Sato a prissy rich girl, some sort of benefactor Korra and her friends used for her wealth. That initial impression had not lasted for long.

"Please, speak freely," Kuvira said.

"I am not an unforgiving person, but you killed my father. Right in front of me. You would have been happy to kill me and everyone I care about. Is there any question why I don't like or trust you? There's nothing you can say that will change my mind, so don't bother."

"Of course. And I won't bother. I only wish to offer a piece of advice. Take the anger you feel towards me and track it to its source. Discover whether that anger was born of hatred or of sorrow and fear. I'm confident you'll find that you worry for your friends, that you still grieve your father. You'll find that you fear for the woman you love and you fear I will exploit her good nature."

Ms. Sato's hardened anger softened and bent like water. It was confusion, now suspicion, anger again, finally settling on reflection.

"If I am right, and the true reason you cannot forgive me is fear, then hold onto that fear, because you are motivated by love for those who are special in your life and I could never blame anyone for such. My fall was a result of my blind ambition and alienation of those I loved. Perhaps if I cared the way you do, I would not have to spend my life in a prison cell."

Kuvira's words drifted and dissolved without answer. She stared back at Ms. Sato until the door cracked open and Korra's head poked inside, testing the frosty, silent waters. "We should probably get going," she said.

Ms. Sato stood. "Okay." The door swung gently open. Ms. Sato's boots clicked on the floor. She stopped before passing the Avatar, bent down and kissed her on the cheek. "I love you."

Korra blushed and ducked her head. "I love you, too." Only when Ms. Sato's footsteps had receded did the Avatar snap out of the red-faced trance distracting her. "So, we didn't get much time to talk. Thankfully there isn't too much new news since last time I was here. Still, I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright, Avatar," Kuvira said.

Korra rolled her eyes. "We talked about this last time. Call me Korra."

"I don't think we are on a name basis."

"Well, we will be." The Avatar straightened up and her eyes shone with a familiar determinedness. "I'm not lying, Kuvira. I truly believe rotting in this cell is a horrible waste and that you could do a lot of good out there. I'm going to make it happen. Don't let me down when the day of your release comes."

Kuvira breathed deep. "I'd have to be a fool to throw such a chance back in your face, Avatar. Consider my full cooperation and obedience a guarantee."

Korra smiled, waved goodbye, and pulled the door shut. The locks clicked back into place, and Kuvira picked up a newspaper she had been brought last time the Avatar visited. Korra was going to have her released. She might as well figure out the state of the world if she was going to help it.

Chapter Text

Katara had truly lived a long, fulfilling life.

She had never doubted so, but to see so much of that life in one place reinforced that fact and made it clear as the ocean on a perfect winter day. Her friends and family were all there. Zuko and his daughter sipped at their drinks while they talked. Toph sat in a chair in a corner, frowning. Her daughters laughed at an unheard joke. Bumi and Kya poked fun at Tenzin, Katara's poor little overly serious boy whose unamused expression made the old waterbender smile.

Reminders of those long passed hung on the wall as well. Katara frowned at the picture of her brother, his loss still a cold frost on her heart after so many years. Suki and her Kyoshi Warriors posed dangerously. Aang's photo was there as well, not the majestic depiction of a god in human flesh she typically saw outside her home, but one of the man she'd come to love. His goofy grin, lopsided as a penguin that waddled too far to the side, was plastered across his face while he airbended Kya off the ground and her brothers readied to jump up and grab her. That was the man she remembered and would always remember. Not the Avatar.

Though she certainly couldn't forget the power her husband wielded, or the legacy he had created with that power. Aang had most certainly grown to enjoy being the Avatar, and while he never let that power change or corrupt him, he had always loved the adoration of the masses. He would take Katara and the children to the Avatar Day in Chin Village every year he was able. After he passed away, Katara and the children would meet at the festival when possible. Age rendered her incapable of such travels anymore. As did the many responsibilities her children now held in the world.

She wondered if Bumi, Kya, and Tenzin even remembered today was Avatar Day.

The entrance doors opened, and Korra and her girlfriend hurried inside to escape the cold. The Avatar was dressed in traditional airbender robes, with blue arrows painted down her arms and legs, and the tip of a large arrow on her forehead. Flakes of stubborn snow chased them inside before melting in the heat. The room quieted, and Tenzin went pale. Katara need not wonder at the apprehension on the young Avatar's face.

"Hi, everyone," Korra said after taking a moment to look around. "Glad you all could make it."

"What is this about, Avatar Korra?" Tenzin asked. The anger and insult in his tone was barely restrained.

Korra winced despite his effort. "Um, I wanted to try something today. I was talking with Sifu Katara a few weeks ago, and she mentioned how today was Avatar Day in Chin Village, and what that used to mean to her. She told me some stories, and one of them gave me an idea."

Confused muttering spread like a wave throughout the room. All except from Katara. Comprehension had turned her skin cold and clammy.

"So, I guess the first thing I'd ask is for a volunteer to tell us all a story about Avatar Aang."

Katara did not hesitate. She shuffled past the others in the room, still confused and silently watching her. She did not speak either. She walked up to Avatar Korra, who bit her lip nervously and offered another lopsided grin. Katara took a deep breath, wiped at the tears in her eyes, and called her children over. Once they had assembled, she closed her eyes and kissed Korra on the cheek. "Everyone hug her," she said.

When the waterbender opened her eyes, the wrinkles and spots had washed from her skin. The weight born of eroding joints beneath the waves of age had vanished. Katara looked up into brown eyes and saw the reflection a woman she'd nearly forgotten, a beautiful, slim, happy woman with a lifetime ahead of her. The lopsided grin remained, but it was now entrenched on the face of Aang as he had been in the prime of their lives.

"Dad?" Kya gasped. She was a teenager again, Katara anew, the most similar of her siblings to the mother who had birthed her.

"Hi, Aang." Katara swallowed a sob.

Aang wrapped them all in his arms. "It's so wonderful to see you all again."

"How?" Tenzin asked. His boyhood hair sprouted wild from his head, his tattoos were gone, and Katara could again look down into her son's eyes. "How is this happening? I thought Korra had lost her connection."

Aang shrugged. He seemed entirely nonplussed, as ever. His indifference and calm had often frustrated her. Right now, it was a blessed anchor stabilizing a storm-wracked ship. "I'm not sure. I was the Avatar, but even I can't say what limits, if any, can stop the Avatar from doing anything."

Katara lifted a hand to his cheek. The Avatar was capable of miracles and power beyond comprehension. She'd seen so firsthand. She'd seen this in particular, on the very first Avatar Day she had ever attended. She had expected it when she saw Korra dressed as an airbending master.

"We did good, didn't we?" Katara asked.

"I think so," Aang said, smiling at his children and the woman he loved. "I really do."

"I've missed you, Aang. We all have. I'm very happy Korra gave us this chance."

Aang looked over at Bumi. The eldest of their children was silent and sullen, at his physical peak, all lean muscle and broad shoulders with wild hair falling past his shoulders. He did not look at his father. An uncertain frown marred his handsome features.

"Bumi," Aang said, and the young man glanced up. "I heard you that day, you know, in the Southern Air Temple. When you spoke with my statue."

Bumi startled. "I…um…you see…"

"I have always been proud of you." Aang smiled over at Kya. "You, too, Kya. I hate that either of you may ever have doubted that, or thought I ever looked down on you for not being airbenders. I loved you all more than anything. I couldn't be more proud. And you did end up quite the airbender, didn't you, Bumi?"

"You bet I did," the young man said, beating a fist against his chest. "Better than the golden boy"

Kya laughed, and Tenzin pouted.

"I love you all." Aang again wrapped his family in a hug. Katara closed her eyes, relishing a contact she'd once craved like a drug. "That Korra is one heck of a young lady, isn't she? Tell her I said thanks."

"Of course," Katara said. "I love you, too."

"I love you, Daddy," Kya sobbed.

"I miss you, Dad," Tenzin said. "Goodbye."

"We're making your dream happen, Dad," Bumi said proudly. "I love you."

Aang moved away, but Katara did not want to open her eyes just yet. She stayed as she was until she heard Zuko's voice, proud and young. When she opened her eyes, the wrinkles had returned, her children towered above her, and the fantasy had faded. And she was okay with that. Life was about looking forward, not back. Aang had been a wonderful husband, father, and person. But he was gone, and while she was grateful for this moment, she would not linger on its passing.

She watched happily as Zuko and Izumi recalled fond moments with Aang's spirit. Lin and Su hugged his legs, little girls not yet jaded by their hardships, while Toph punched his shoulder and made jokes at his expense. Aang spent long moments staring at the pictures of Sokka and Suki. The smile never left his face.

When his time ended, he walked back over where Asami still stood, just beyond the entrance. The beautiful older woman whispered in Aang's ear, and a swirl of wind surrounded them. When the funnel dissipated, Korra stood in Aang's place, wobbly on her feet. Asami smiled a familiar smile. One that had stayed glued onto Katara's face for most of fifty years.

"Did it work?" Korra asked. Her voice was rough as dirty ice. "Did Aang appear?"

"Yes, he did," Tenzin said, placing a fatherly palm on her shoulder. "Thank you very much, Korra. I will repay you somehow for this gesture."

The young Avatar breathed a sigh of relief. "I was thinking this was my way of repaying you and Katara and Bumi and Kya for all your help. I don't want anything in return. I'm just glad it worked."

"How did it work?" Kya asked. "Have you experienced any connections to your past lives that made you think it was possible?"

"Not really, but…" Korra crossed her arms as she thought it over. "After Sifu Katara told me about Aang channeling Kyoshi, I visited the Northern Water Tribe to assist with clearing snow after a series of avalanches and finding the people trapped beneath it. Afterwards I felt this tugging at my memory when I walked down a specific street. But it wasn't the street itself that was familiar. More like the specific spot I was standing. The sky seemed really familiar, and I could almost see the buildings around me how they were hundreds of years ago. Sometimes that happens. Sometimes I still feel as if my past lives are somewhere inside me. Maybe it's lingering shadows that will fade one day, and if so I wanted to try this while I can. You know, in case I couldn't later."

"I'm very happy you could," Katara said, hugging this wonderful young woman she'd known for so long. She had seen Korra at her best and worst, had helped raise her, had spent long nights with Kya not only teaching, but talking and listening. Korra was like another daughter to the aged waterbender.

"Thank you so much, Korra," Kya said, blinking back tears as she moved to hug the Avatar as well.

Their silent, grateful embrace was interrupted by Bumi's boisterous grasp as he took the pair of women in his arms. Korra and Kya laughed, and Katara smiled happily. She'd lived a good, long life. She hoped those she loved could be blessed so.

Chapter Text

It was a good day when all Korra had to wonder about was how exactly to tell a bunch of friends and loved ones some wonderful news. Plus it was her birthday, so gifts! Yet for some reason, she felt every bit as nervous as she did the night before Kuvira attacked.

Why was Asami so frustratingly calm? Korra scowled at her girlfriend, who was buttoning her blouse with fingers that didn’t shake, a smile instead of a frown, and a forehead free of nervous wrinkles. Other than the fingers gliding up her blouse, she was still as a placid lake. Petty jealousy almost stopped the bouncing of Korra’s right leg.

“I hate you so much right now,” the Avatar muttered.

“No, you don’t,” Asami said with absolute confidence.

“You’re right.” Of course she was right. Stupid, sexy Asami. “I just don’t understand how you’re so calm right now. I’m so jealous. I feel like I did when I was a kid and I played in the snow wearing my flimsy pajamas. My head’s burning, I’m all dizzy, and I can’t stop shaking.”

All it took was a hand on her knee. Asami’s hand, to be specific. “Hmm. I think you’re okay. It takes much more than a person’s hand to cure a fever.”

Korra squeezed her girlfriend’s long fingers. Girlfriend. She knew she was grinning like an idiot, because she hadn’t stopped since she held Asami’s hand for the first time, when they walked together through the newly created spirit portal at Republic City’s heart. And she wasn’t going to apologize for it. After everything she’d been through, anyone who had a problem with Korra’s happiness, happiness she had earned, was going to have to deal with it.

“And if for some reason things don’t go well today,” Asami continued, “I’m rich enough to buy some friends who think differently.”

Korra laughed, because all she’d done since stepping through that portal is laugh. Walking made her laugh. Every joke made her laugh. Kissing, oh boy had that made her laugh, so much so that Asami had yet to stop teasing her about it, which only made Korra giggle and snort all the harder. There was definitely something wrong with her. Something really wrong, something way deep down that imprisoned her suaveness and let the dork run wild.

“Besides, I don’t think this will come as much of a shock.”

“What do you mean?” Korra asked.

Asami rolled her eyes. “You’re not very subtle. And you hide your feelings about as well as Pabu hides stealing dumplings from Pema’s kitchen.”

Korra stared gape-mouthed. “I have not been that bad. I guarantee no one knows.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Oh, you’re so on. What are the stakes?”

Asami tapped a finger against her pursed lips. Ruby red, perfect, begging to be smeared. Korra blinked and shook her head.

“I think we can come to an arrangement afterwards. Mystery makes the bet more exciting.”

Korra groaned. “No. I hate when you do this, I want to know what exactly we’re betting for here.”

“Well I think it’s more exciting this way.” Asami swayed her hips while she closed the distance, distracting the objections right out of Korra’s head. Stupid, sexy Asami. “Aw, don’t pout. How about this, I’m so confident that I’m right that I’ll stack the odds in your favor. If any less than half the people at your party are surprised, you win. If at least half knew, I win. Deal?”

Korra smirked. Easy money. Or whatever she decided on to make Asami pay. “You’re on.”

The Avatar’s birthday was common knowledge in Republic City. She didn’t know how it became common knowledge. Her second year in Republic City, she took a boat out to Air Temple Island for a celebration Pema had insisted on holding for the Avatar. Dozens waited on the docks, total strangers, all of them begging, threatening, and bargaining in hopes of joining the party. Korra made headlines the next morning after she airbending four people into the water. She still did not regret it. No one spoke about Tenzin or Pema in the Avatar’s presence the way those jerks did and got away with it.

To prevent such incidents from ever happening again, every year Asami arranged a public celebration on the eve of Korra’s birthday for the movers and goers of Republic City, and anyone else who could fit into the courtyard outside of City Hall. Tables stacked with the best dishes in the world lined the walls and were arranged in square u-shapes outside. Music from a dozen different bands floated in the air along with cigarette smoke and the echoing blend of voices. An army of waiters carried fluted glasses of sparkling wine throughout the crowds.

Korra would freeze a fake smile on her face, make polite conversation, and do her best to stick to Asami, Tenzin, Lin, or whoever else she could actually bear to be around. It was a small sacrifice to assure a better gathering on her real birthday. Besides, Asami worked hard to arrange those parties. Korra couldn’t be unappreciative of anything Asami did.

She was reminded why she should be grateful when they reached the docks at Air Temple Island, blessedly empty except or the acolytes who carried out the menial labor on the island. Now that she was here, Korra found herself shaking again. This time Asami’s touch didn’t help.

“So, how do we do this?” she asked. “Do we mention it right away? Do we wait awhile? Do we tell a joke and us being in a relationship is the punch line? Wait, that sounded horrible. I did not mean it anything like that. But I’m very open to suggestions on how we break the news.”

Asami smiled that smile, the one that made everything worth it and kept Korra going through every hardship thrown her way. Long before she’d ever thought of Asami in any romantic way, she had fought to see that smile. It was a smile of warmth and reassurance, chasing away the cold doubt of rehab, war, and an Avatar’s burden.

Korra took Asami’s hand. “Let’s just try the direct approach. I’ve always been best at direct.”

They circled the island towards the bright white glow originating from the training grounds. A banner with the words Happy Birthday, Korra hung between two tall poles. A single table loaded with home-cooked food was pushed to the edge. Lanterns were strung along the grounds, illuminating the small gathering beneath them. Everyone else had already arrived, it seemed. Korra stopped at the edge of the makeshift party area and looked over the crowd. Bolin, Mako, and Opal were there. So were Tenzin, Pema, and their children, of course. The entirety of the Beifong clan, besides Toph, who had predictably vanished, and Baatar Jr., who had begun his prison term, huddled close together. Korra’s parents watched the ocean together. Kya watched as Bumi showed off his airbending technique. Even Naga and Pabu were there, stalking on the sidelines while they waited for scraps to drop to the ground.

And Asami was at the Avatar’s side, as always, her soft palm a pillowy comfort. Hand in hand, they walked unannounced towards the others. Which was the way Korra liked it. None of that stupid, ego-feeding nonsense of announcing her arrival with every title the world had ever thought up for her.

Opal was the first to see them, and squealed in delight. Every pair of eyes turned the couple’s way. Korra winced, waiting for them to piece together the linked hands.

“Alright, everybody, time to pay up!” Mako said. “Tonraq! Come on, a bet’s a bet.”

“I was so sure I was right,” Tenzin said, pouting. He slipped a few coins in Pema’s waiting hand.

Bolin ran over to the Beifongs. “I told you, always listen to Opal.”

Korra glared at them all. “You bet on whether Asami and I were together or not?”

“We’re way past that,” Pema said. “We had a bet on whether you’d tell us on your birthday or keep ‘hiding’ it. Though you two haven’t been a secret with most of us since you came back from your vacation.”

Asami laughed, deep and loud. “Guess I win.”

Whatever petty annoyance Korra felt quickly sapped away as those she loved came forward to congratulate her, both over another year passed and the newfound happiness it had brought her. They spent the night answering questions about all the little details of the how and when, which soon became a telling of the story of their spirit world vacation in full. There were no frowns among them. There were no disapproving mutterings. Korra would have smacked herself for being so stupid if she wasn’t too busy eating and laughing, bits of food spitting from her lips when she tried to talk. Of course they were happy for her. They loved her. They loved Asami. To true friends and family, that was all that mattered.

Morning was fast approaching before the party dwindled away, carried off on the sea breeze. Rohan and Meelo were passed out beneath the food table, jam and frosting smeared on their cheeks. The others had retired to their rooms for the night. Korra found Asami sitting near the edge of the island, staring at the rippling reflection of the moon on the water’s surface.

“That was so much fun,” the Avatar said, sitting next to her girlfriend. “We have great friends.”

“The absolute best. Better than money could ever hope to buy.” Asami reached a long arm around Korra’s waist.

“I’m not the least bit tired.” Korra leaned against her girlfriend’s shoulder. “What else should we do?”

“I don’t know. Head on back to the city and walk around?”

“Okay.”

Republic City had begun to slowly wake from its slumber. Paper boys tossed the day’s edition from the sacks around their torsos. Sleepy workers drove home from night shifts. Their replacements passed by them. The endless bang of reconstruction continued among the husks of buildings and streets left at the heart, where Kuvira’s cannon had caused the most damage.

Asami breathed a heavy sigh. This would be their last chance to rest for a long time. Soon the reconstruction project would begin in earnest, and her time would be dominated by negotiations, blueprints, proposals, finances, and all the many little things Korra couldn’t begin to understand about the rebuilding of a city after disaster. And she wouldn’t be there to help her girlfriend through it. Korra would have her own responsibilities dragging her of to every corner of the world.

For tonight, they could forget all of that.

“So what am I going to have to do for you?” Korra asked while they nursed at a pair of ice cream cones haggled off a guy setting up his stall.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Asami sang smugly. “I’m thinking…heavy lifting. There will be a lot of work to do cleaning up rubble downtown. It would sure be easier with you in the Avatar State. Or maybe you could spend the day helping me with expense reports. Rebuilding this city is going to cost a pretty penny.”

Korra’s expression fell. “Seriously?”

“No, not seriously,” Asami laughed. “Having you help with accounting would like to bankrupt me.”

“True. So? What am I doing? Come on, I really don’t want to have to worry about what your scheming in that brilliant head of yours. I’ll drive myself crazy.”

Asami blushed, which only made Korra more nervous. “I was thinking we could talk about this back at the apartment. Is that okay?”

“Lead the way.”

Asami had moved into the penthouse before Kuvira’s attack, and with the majority of her time sure to be spent embroiled in work for the foreseeable future, what time she spent in a bed would assuredly continue to take place in the penthouse. Once they’d stepped through the door atop the hotel, they tossed their jackets on the back of the couch. Asami stretched, lithe as a striped lioness.

“Um, wait here a second,” she said, voice low and nervous.

Korra strolled leisurely around the living room. There was very little personalization to the sprawling space. Both couches looked brand new, completely unlived in. The radio knob hadn’t seen so much as a turn. There were no pictures above the fireplace. A couple of empty food cartons sat atop a dining table. Otherwise Korra would think no one lived here.

“Hey, Korra, can you come in here?” Asami called from her bedroom.

Korra walked into the room without a second thought. When she saw Asami in bed, covers to her shoulders and her clothes folded neatly on the dresser beside the bed, the Avatar swallowed hard. A bright blush crept across Asami’s cheeks, matching her begging to be smeared lipstick. A sliver of moonlight was all that broke the darkness.

“I…” Asami hesitated. “We’re both going to be really busy soon. I don’t know when we’ll get another chance, and tonight has been so perfect. The best night I could have imagined for us to do this for the first time.”

“Um, okay.” Korra felt her throat close off like a boulder closing a cave entrance. Sweat ran down her face like rain. “Yikes, that was really bad. I’m sorry, I should be more excited, I guess? I’m so nervous.”

“Me, too.” Asami glanced down. “But I want to do this tonight. If you don’t-”

“I do,” Korra blurted out. Real smooth. “I really do.”

Asami curled a long finger towards her. Korra tried her best not to run, yet her legs felt heavy as if Naga was trying to pull them. Somehow she ended up on the bed, her lips brushing against Asami’s. “I’m really not sure how to do this. Not just because you’re…I’ve never done this with anyone.”

“Not even with Mako?” Asami teased.

Korra groaned. “That’s not a name you should bring up right now.”

Asami laughed uneasily. “Sorry. I’m not exactly an expert either.”

Beneath the blanket, Asami was shivering. “So…?”

“Let’s just start slow, and see what happens. That’s always worked with us before.”

That it had. They’d taken the long road to find each other, and for the best. Korra leaned forward and brushed a light kiss against her girlfriend’s lips. She felt her shirt lift, and raised her arms to help the process. Their kiss deepened, and the blanket fell away.

“I love you, Sami.”

“I love you, too, Korra.”

Chapter Text

"Wrong," Kuvira said. "Spread your feet. Widen your gaze. I assume your previous instructor taught you to watch the hands and feet?"

The young earthbender nodded, his head bowed.

"Watch my hands."

Kuvira floated them aimlessly, tracing imaginary symbols that the trainee before her read like a particularly captivating paragraph, so engrossed that he could not comprehend the entire page. Kuvira shifted her feet, spinning the ground beneath the boy and knocking him off balance. When his eyes fell to her feet, she used a hand to raise a pillar that caught him in the shoulder. The trainee coughed swallowed dust while he regained his footing.

"Never focus on any singular aspect of an opponent," Kuvira said. "Many will have developed little ticks to their stance and style, designed solely to feint and bait. A repetitive flick of the hand, for example, or a skip to their step. Widen your gaze. Focus on shoulders and hips. Watch the eyes. No hand can punch without the shoulder telling. No leg can sweep or stomp without the hips showing."

"Yes, Sifu Kuvira."

"This applies to group battle as well, and large scale warfare involving true armies," Kuvira said, speaking to her entire class. "In such situations a bender must always be aware of their surroundings. Widen your gaze beyond the foe in your path. You must be able to see threats two steps ahead of time. And not just threats to your own wellbeing, but those who fight at your side. But such is a lesson for another day. You did well. You all did well. Please enjoy your evening and have a good night's sleep. I'll see you all for training tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Sifu. Thank you, Sifu."

The student earthbenders hurried off as quickly as their sore, tired bodies could move him. No niceties would be spoken for their teacher that night when they gathered at The Bend. Many would hem, haw, and once they were sufficiently deep in their cups they would swear to stand up to Kuvira the next day or abandon their training altogether. And the next morning, after the dreams of night had provided the proper separation to reflect accurately on the day's lesson, the metalbender would find her students in formation on the training grounds of Omashu's Royal Palace.

Thus was the task she had agreed to take upon when she came to Omashu, with King Shoma's delighted permission.

A task she took great pleasure in. As was typical after a day working her benders, a slight smile decorated her face while she retreated to her quarters for a change of clothing. This is what she had missed most since the day she turned her back on Suyin and Zaofu. She had always taken a pleasure in the rigors of training, whether learning as a student or instructing as a teacher. Her sessions as Captain of Zaofu's Guard had been legendary for their ferocity. Even the hardest of veterans, soldiers who had served Suyin since before the city's creation and seen battle throughout the Earth Kingdom, had retired to their families cursing Kuvira's name. Within weeks, their animosity and fatigue faded, washed away by pride in newfound abilities and a rediscovered, reinvigorated loyalty to their cause.

For Kuvira knew and loved one thing above all others; she knew how to inspire loyalty and push her soldiers to the limits of their capabilities. She took great pride and pleasure in her leadership. She had left Zaofu ready to grow an army, to personally bring the very best out of it. For a year, she'd lived her dream. War had taken that pleasure from her like it had all her pleasures. By the time she returned to Zaofu, it was all she could do to watch her soldiers train as she marched past. The many burdens of leading a war effort let her precious little time to set the guidelines for her officers to train by, let alone train them herself. Her troops were not the only benefactors of her methods. Drilling her troops helped keep Kuvira's own skills sharp and allowed her to grow close with those who would fight and die for her. To the day she died, she would always believe her downfall was the result of the time lost with her troops. The individuals who fought for her became featureless rock, no different to her than the earth she bent and even less to her than the metal strips along her arms.

The quarters King Shoma had provided her were comfortable and airy, far beyond Kuvira's expectations upon arrival. Sharp green gems glittered in the walls. One window provided a view of the training grounds below, while another looked down on the roof of the guard barracks. The mattress was a soft featherbed and the chairs around the table lined with soft velvet cushions on the seats and backs. Atop the desk were the many files and schedules that occupied her downtime. Kuvira sat in one of the chairs around the table, but found herself unwilling to dive directly into paperwork. Instead she turned her attention to the week's letters stacked beside it.

Most of the envelopes contained the latest responses in Kuvira's many correspondences with the various villages and towns throughout the Earth Kingdom looking to make use of her services. She cast quick glances at the writing before placing them aside for later. A hastily written name with surprisingly neat handwriting caught her eye, and she smiled. There was no seal indicating where the letter had been sent from, but that was common of Korra.

The Avatar had successfully used her new marriage to spend the past six months in and around Republic City, smoking out organized crime and hunting leads on Red Lotus cells. Kuvira had not seen her since her wedding night. According to the letter, that was changing. Korra could no longer avoid the Earth Kingdom Council's demands on her time and would arrive in Ba Sing Se within the month. Kuvira looked through the stack of opened letters again and picked out a letter regarding an offer to assist the Dai Li. Her time in Omashu would soon end. Accepting the Dai Li's offer would both offer a chance to see Korra and drive up Kuvira's price if Omashu wished her to return.

She penned an acceptance, signed and sealed it within an envelope, and gave it to a servant to bring to Omashu's courier service. Her place in the world had taken a drastic turn from its stalled direction a year prior, isolated in a cell hoping for eventual lenience if the Avatar could convince the world of potential rehabilitation. Still, she desired more. And with the funds she had acquired in Omashu, plus whatever the Dai Li would pay, she could begin to act on those desires.

A familiar seal caught the metalbender's eye among the envelopes still sealed. Kuvira read the name and nearly called for a fire to burn the paper. Instead she slipped a finger through the crease and ripped the envelope open. A single sheet held a single paragraph. Kuvira was not surprised. Suyin Beifong could be a woman of pomp and pageantry, but when she felt a point needed to be made, few cut through the unnecessary with such skill.

Kuvira read and reread the letter. She poured over each word for hidden meanings. The offer was simple enough. Suyin and her husband would arrive in Omashu in three days. They wished to lunch with Kuvira while in town. Opal would arrive before them. Kuvira read the letter again, sure there was some weakness in its structure, some flaw in the blueprint revealing the true motive behind the unexpected kindness, but she found none.

It was early the next morning when word reached her of Opal's arrival. The airbender waited near her bison, stroking the beast's fur and whispering nonsense. When Kuvira cleared her throat, Opal smiled and rushed forward to hug her.

"Is it common practice for Tenzin to allow his subordinates such freedom of schedule?" the metalbender teased. "You spend more time visiting me than you do on patrol."

"I do not!" Opal protested. "It's easy. I'm flying around the Earth Kingdom anyway, why not check in on you while I'm at it?"

"Many reasons. You could see your family, you could see your boyfriend, you could see the Avatar…"

"I do. A lot."

"Which is why I wonder what time you dedicate to your airbending responsibilities."

"Maybe I should just leave, then," Opal said.

Kuvira shrugged indifferently. Her smile was anything but. She had no real doubts of Opal's contributions around the nation.

They spent the day together, with Kuvira giving an entirely unnecessary tour of the city. Occasionally they came across one of her trainees. Some spent their day off in taverns, tea shops, and marketplaces, engorging themselves. Others trained in pairs or trios. All of them stopped to salute Kuvira when they saw her. Opal was respectful enough to wait to tease her over it. Not that a jest or two undermined the metalbender's authority. Kuvira's trainees knew Opal's sisterly bond with their instructor, and understood that she could get away with such jokes. Any who thought otherwise were welcome to prove themselves in sparring.

Suyin arrived two days after her daughter, as promised. Kuvira considered herself a hard person to shake. True to her earthbending roots, her emotions were immovable under anything less than cataclysmic forces, and her exterior demeanor was typically calm as a windless desert. Yet as she followed Opal towards one of the many gardens housed within the Royal Palace, a strong gale had kicked up, a familiar cyclone which scattered the sands and battered the mountains upon which her stable demeanor was built. Suyin had always had that effect on Kuvira. She'd had it since the day she found a starving, stubborn orphan girl in the slums of the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se.

Kuvira gave her best attempt to control her expression as she walked into the garden, towards Suyin and her husband. They stood and offered reluctant smiles.

"I worried you might refuse me," Suyin said.

"The thought came to me," Kuvira said. "Baatar. It's…been too long since we met under amiable circumstances."

The brilliant architect nodded. While he'd always been the second-fiddle of his marriage, Kuvira admired him. He was the stable rock upon which Suyin could learn when her ambition fatigued her. "Hi, honey," he said to Opal.

"Hi, Dad. Hi, Mom." The tension in the air shadowed the airbender's normal enthusiasm.

"I almost felt at home watching Omashu's guard when we arrived," Suyin said. "I suppose I should be angrier to see them operating like my own guard does, but I actually feel proud. You always were an expert when it came to drilling troops. And you look happy. Opal tells me you are."

"Please," Kuvira said. "Please do not pretend that we were not the Avatar's timely intervention from coming to blows last time we spoke. Since you requested to see me, I assume something has changed since then. What exactly has changed?"

"Time changes a lot of things. Since the last time we spoke, you helped defeat Ghazan, became one of Korra's closest friends, and have spent six months on your own without incident. In the last six months I've heard nothing but great things about you from my daughter."

Kuvira crossed her hands behind her back. "And?"

Suyin sighed and frowned. She appeared genuinely disappointed. "I'm trying to extend an olive branch here, Kuvira."

"And you understand why I may be wary?"

"Kuvira, stop," Opal said.

The metalbender closed her eyes and breathed deep, ashamed about her loss of temper. "I apologize. But I am wary. I'd like to at least partially rebuild what we used to have, but I worry our recent history makes it impossible."

"History is history, Kuvira," Suyin said. "Time destroyed the bridge between us. Time has destroyed many bridges in my life. Time has also rebuilt those same bridges. I've reconnected with my mother, my sister, and my son. I would like to at least try and reconnect with a woman I once thought of as a daughter." Suyin blinked moisture from her eyes. "I'm not welcoming you back with open arms, but I want to start somewhere."

Again, Kuvira's emotions betrayed her in Suyin's presence. She felt the tug at the corners of her mouth, bending her lips into a slight smile. "I suppose we could start with lunch. The castle kitchen has some true delicates."

"Nothing like our pastries, I bet," Baatar said.

"No, but still delicious," Kuvira said. "Especially their tea. I hear their brewing method is a derivative of a method used in some shop once considered the best in all of Ba Sing Se."

"That sounds lovely," Suyin said.

The four of them seated themselves around one of the tables in the garden.

Chapter Text

Korra was an impossibly stubborn young woman.

Asami could relate to that. She was as well, otherwise she would never have managed to rebuild Future Industries after her father’s imprisonment., but Korra took stubborn to a lonesome peak high above where most human beings, bender or not, could ever hope to climb. Asami couldn’t begin to feign surprise when Korra gritted away the ugly bruise on her forearm. It was expected.

“Are you okay?” Mako asked.

“I’m fine,” Korra said.

“You’re not fine. You need to stop for a second and wait for Chief Beifong to arrive with help.”

“What kind of Avatar needs help with scum like these people?”

Asami frowned and turned away from the argument, towards Bolin. The chipper earthbender frowned nervously and shrugged at her. Hang around Korra and Mako long enough, you grow used to their arguments but you never grow comfortable.

“I’m not waiting,” Korra shouted, ending the discussion. “If you want to sit around until Lin’s here to hold your stupid hand, then you can.”

She stomped off further into the alley, towards the stairs leading down to the basement where those Triad gangsters not incapacitated in the fight had fled. Asami hesitated only a moment before hurrying to join her. Her unquestioning loyalty and belief in Korra still surprised her. The history between them was enough to make most pairs bitter rivals. Asami had experienced her share of silly teenage rivalries before the wave of Avatar Korra crashed into her life, and had lost some friends for less than she and Korra had been through. There were still those nights where she lied awake in bed, eyes narrowed angrily while she asked herself what in the world she was doing. Mako had betrayed her and acted like a complete jerk. Korra had stolen her boyfriend. Every day she saw them swing wildly between love and hatred and had to stomach it. Why would Asami willingly put herself through that?

The answer, of course, was Korra herself. There was something about her that commanded loyalty, something inspirational and likeable. It was more than her being the Avatar. It was Korra herself. The brave, awkward, tough, driven, funny young girl the Avatar spirit had chosen. After spending so much time with Korra, Asami had come to the belief that it was not the Avatar spirit that made their chosen host so special, but rather that it found those of such qualities. Korra was a wonderful person, and it had nothing to do with her power. She could have been a poor non-bender working a crappy night job in a warehouse and Asami was sure she’d be the same person.

Korra blasted the door leading into the basement off its hinges. Crates of illegal good lay stacked against the walls, abandoned in the Triad’s flight. She limped forward, favoring her left leg. “What happened to your leg?” Asami asked, frowning.

“Nothing,” Korra muttered. “I’m fine.”

A sliver of a doubt, a chilling breeze leftover from Korra’s aggressive destruction of the door, crept under Asami’s clothes. She followed down a hallway, clearing the small rooms to either side. Most contained more contraband. A couple housed groups of the orphans the Triad took in off the streets, those poor souls like Bolin and Mako the crime lords hoped to mold into the next generation of their organization someday. Asami watched Korra talk and laugh and smile with them, amazing as ever with children. There was no sign of the Triad members who had fled.

Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall, and Asami readied herself. She relaxed when Bolin stopped in the doorway. The earthbender released a sigh of relief. “We were worried when we didn’t hear any fighting. I thought you might have walked into a trap.”

Mako frowned at the orphans huddled in the corner. “Scumbags.”

“Yeah.” Korra stood. “Can one of you stay with them until the cops show up?”

“Sure,” Bolin said. He put on a smile and turned his attention to the kids.

Korra frowned at Mako, suggesting she’d hoped Mako would volunteer. “Okay.” She turned to Asami and Mako and nodded. “Come on.”

The trio stalked carefully down the hallway, took a right past more rooms filled with illegal goods, took a left past a conference room, and crept along the walls of a rectangular sparring room with training mats draped on the floor and striking dummies in a row. Mako and Korra never stopped competing to take the lead; every time Mako moved forward, his girlfriend would limp quickly ahead of him on her injured leg.

Korra was an excessively protective young woman.

When the trap finally sprung, she knocked both Asami and Mako off their feet so she would absorb the brunt of it herself. A burst of fire knocked her off balance, and a chunk of wall threw her into a wall, driving the air from her lungs. Mako regained his feet in time to disperse another fireball thrown Korra’s way.

Asami watched angrily as Korra stumble to her feet. She was always doing that. Every time danger threatened, Korra tried to take it only upon herself. Asami noticed her friend doing so even more often lately, especially when it was Asami’s wellbeing at risk.

The non-bender pushed her frustration aside. The Triad were pouring into the room in large numbers now. She channeled her frustration as she dodged their attacks, her years of self-defense operating through her body as efficiently as the machinery within her cars. A waterbender overextended with an attack and took a kick to the gut. A firebender underestimated Asami’s speed and received a boot to the cheek. Three twitched on the floor after a taste of her electric glove.
Mako grunted when he hit the ground, a trickle of blood leaking out of the corner of his mouth. The momentary distraction allowed a waterbender with a mean scar on his face like a crevice in a rock to grip hold of Asami’s arm and yank her to the concrete. Her jaw crunched and her teeth rattled. Her head swam and she rolled over on her back.

A sucking wind pulled at her clothing, dragging her to her left. When Asami tried to stand, she fell back to her knees. Fist-sized chunks of the walls whipped above her head and water flowed from the flasks at the gangsters’ sides. Asami rolled quickly over to where Mako lay groaning.

Korra’s eyes glowed like twin suns. Her teeth bared liked Naga’s snarl. Asami had seen Korra in the Avatar State a handful of time now, but never like this. There was no restraint in her expression. Her muscles flexed threateningly. Even in the Avatar State, Asami had always seen a hint of Korra, the surface of ocean blue hinting at the depths beneath, within those white-hot eyes. Her past lives had burned away the waters, leaving only the fury and the Avatar.

Four elements snaked from the funnel surrounding the Avatar, striking their fangs at the frightened gangsters trying to flee. A small stream of water became a wave that broke over the heads of two of them. A wall of fire pushed another into a wall and burned a tapestry hanging on the wall. Child funnels of wind spawned off the larger cyclone surrounding Korra, tossing the others around like debris. The doorway collapsed, cutting off the only exit for those still standing.

Asami helped Mako to a corner and cowered there as the Avatar did its damage. Bits of earth embedded in the walls and bruised flesh. Chunks of wall ripped away. The ceiling collapsed. Fire, water, and wind continued to abuse the overmatched gangsters. Bones crunched. Skin bled. Pained tears fell down faces. Those who fell unconscious were not spared.

The wind pulled at Asami as she stood. A Triad gangster was thrown against the wall beside her and fell motionless beside Mako. Asami fought her way forward. A sphere of air now surrounded the Avatar, a vacuum sucking everything in the room towards it. Asami let herself be taken. She came to a stop outside the orb, and reached her arm through it.

“Korra!” she shouted. The gale swallowed her voice. “Korra, stop! Come back!”

Two more of the gangsters went limp. One last scared soul blubbered for mercy. The Avatar tensed, ready to spring forward and smote him. Asami closed her fingers around the bruise on the forearm. The Avatar winced and turned angrily towards the source its pain. Anger and fire burned in its eyes.

“Korra,” Asami choked fearfully. “Please.”

The room shook when the concrete held up by the Avatar’s power fell to the floor. The sphere of air dissipated. A ring of blue shined bright as ice through the white of its eyes, and the Avatar vanished, Korra again returned to the world. She stumbled when her feet hit the ground, and Asami caught her.

Mako rushed forward to take Korra in his arms. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Korra whispered.

“Well, you really did a number on these gangsters. Way to go.”

Asami glared at Mako. She was halfway to an angry rebuke when she noticed Korra’s eyes, shamed and disappointed while they took in the scene around her, the limp, broken bodies sprawled throughout the room and the destruction she’d caused.

“Lin should be here soon,” Asami said. “She can handle them. Anyone else who might have been here are long gone by now. Let’s go outside and wait for her.”

Korra nodded gratefully, and Mako helped her back the way they came.

As Asami knew she would, Korra stuck around as Chief Beifong and her officers searched the crime scene and loaded the Triad gangsters into the wagons. Because she was a good friend, Asami stuck around as well, even after Korra insisted they didn’t need to stay, an offer Mako and Bolin accepted too eagerly. Asami thought about doing the same. If she didn’t leave to get sleep now, she wouldn’t sleep at all that night. But when she saw Korra’s face, the way that sorrow that didn’t belong twisted all her features and sent an ugly wrinkle across her forehead, she couldn’t bring herself to leave.

“Thanks for sticking around,” Korra said. “And sorry.”

“For what?”

“For what I did tonight.” Korra looked down at Asami’s knee. “I’m pretty sure that rip wasn’t there before I entered the Avatar State.”

Asami looked down at the torn fabric, and rubbed a finger over a future scab. Nothing too serious. She’d had worse fighting alongside Korra. “No big deal. I’m just glad I was able to snap you out of it. What happened?”

“I…I have no idea. I saw Mako hit the ground, and then I saw you hit the ground, and I had those kids on my mind. I guess I snapped.” Korra stared up at the sky. “I feel like such a jerk right now. I could have seriously hurt you.”

“But you didn’t. As far gone as you were, you came back when you saw me.”

“Yeah. But I’m not sure how much control I had over whether I came back or not. I’ve never lost control like that. Not even when I first entered the Avatar State. It’s scary to see what I did and think about what I could have done if you hadn’t gotten through. What if next time-?”

“Korra, don’t.” Asami placed a hand on her friend’s back. “If there’s a next time, you’ll come back again, just like you did this time. Someone will be there to make sure. Mako, Bolin, Tenzin…” Asami blushed. Why did she blush? “Me.”

“I have the best friends ever,” Korra said, smiling. “Thank, Sami.”

“Sami?”

“I don’t know, feels like friends should have some sort of name they use. Sami was the first thing that came to mind.”

Asami smiled. “I like it.”

Chapter Text

The day Kuvira last saw Zaofu, she had turned her back on it after stripping the domes away for her mech. Looking back, she knew that was the day she had stripped away the last of her soul and compassion and fully committed her mind to the dark path which led to her defeat. The deconstruction of those domes had also been the deconstruction of every path branching away, every chance to change her mind. She could no longer give Zaofu back. She could no longer simply release her prisoners. She could no longer tell her engineers to stop building. She had set her tiles on the Pai Sho board and dared the rest of the world to defeat her.

In the aftermath of her defeat, as Suyin led her away in handcuffs speaking promises of harsh justice, Kuvira had thought she’d seen the last of Zaofu. Even after her release she never imagined she’d be welcome back. The damage she’d caused was too great. It could no more be repaired than a waterbender could bend without the moon.

As she stared at the blossoming platinum flowers of the open domes of the one place she ever called home, she whispered a promise to again thank Avatar Korra for making the impossible a reality.

“Wow, it’s been so long since I’ve been back,” Opal said. She flinched immediately. “That was stupid. Sorry.”

Kuvira was too far gone to take offense. She barely heard the words. Zaofu. After nine long years, she was returning to Zaofu as she had known it. The shattered city whose steel backbone had been broken by fear six years ago did not count, no matter how Kuvira had convinced herself the day she defeated the Avatar. That city she desecrated was not Zaofu. It was merely another conquest to plunder and leave in the hands of her military.

Opal’s hand feathered gently at the metalbender’s shoulder. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Kuvira breathed deep. “Yes I am.”

She walked the streets of the Manufacturing Dome with her hair and eyes both lowered, dressed discretely in drab green and gray. Workers walked by without the slightest flicker of recognition towards her. The Guard, some of which Kuvira recognized and more who were strangers, watched every movement with the same precision and dedication with which they’d made their name. Many greeted Opal as she walked, and the young airbender was the picture of charisma and accessibility, shaking every hand and accepting every hug.

Five of the Guard waited outside the monorail station for the pair, all strangers. Kuvira followed Opal onto a waiting car on an unfamiliar line, built some time since she left Zaofu and whose purpose seemed for allowing quick passage for VIPs. She sat by the window and watched the valley pass by. A squad of benders in the unarmored uniform worn by recruits trained beside the water where the river split around the Government Dome. Kuvira smiled, remembering those early days when Suyin had trained recruits herself by that same river. There had only been three domes then, and perhaps fifteen initiated guardsmen. Kuvira’s class had consisted of three earthbenders, herself included, and a lone firebender. One of the earthbenders had quit two weeks in. Kuvira could not remember his face.

Wei and Wing waited outside the train car when it came to a stop, and greeted their sister with enthusiastic, growling hugs. Behind them, Baatar stood waiting and silent. His glasses crept down his nose and a stray hair fell across his forehead. In many ways, he looked the same as the day he and Kuvira left Zaofu for Ba Sing Se. To those who didn’t know him quite so well as she did, he would appear identical. They wouldn’t notice the harsh lines creasing his forehead, the shrunken slump to his shoulders, or the spots of premature gray grief had peppered through his hair.

“Hey, Kuvira,” Wei greeted warily. “So, nice weather today, huh?”

Kuvira nodded politely. She watched the twins, noticed the struggle in the dozens of little muscles of their faces as they fought between lingering vestiges of anger and awkward geniality. They had no history with Kuvira besides sparse sparring sessions and their imprisonment after Zaofu’s surrender. That they did not show her open hostility suggested Suyin had demanded friendliness.

“Hi, big brother,” Opal said, happily embracing Baatar.

He smiled nervously. When his eyes finally turned towards Kuvira, she could not meet the hope shining in those forest greens. Perhaps returning had been a mistake.

“Mom’s kind of anxious to see you two, so we should hurry,” Wing said. “You probably know the way, but just in case, how about you follow us?”

As if it was possible to lose your way. Zaofu’s streets were clean, clear, and easy to follow, with street names, the distances away from them, and the direction one needed to travel labeled upon a myriad of signs. And even those whose sense of direction was dull as a rusted sword could simply look up to find the tower spearing into the sky from the middle of the dome. It was towards the tower that they walked, the twins leading the way, with Opal chatting happily at their sides and Kuvira behind. Baatar took up the rear.

They’d nearly arrived at their destination before the eldest of Suyin’s children gathered the nerve to speak to her. “Been a while, huh?”

Kuvira nodded, unsure what to say.

“We’ve made a lot of improvements since last time you were here. Mostly with the rail line. We’ve replaced three of the monorails leading out from the Government Dome with magnetic rails like the one between Ba Sing Se and Republic City. Varrick was more than happy to help with the yuans Mother paid him. And Dad loved the project, though he refuses to admit the idea came from your rail.”

Kuvira nodded again.
“There’s a lot of talk about adding another dome. Dad and I have had a lot of late nights the past few weeks while we draw up the plans. It’s kind of exciting, the last time there was a dome added I was too young. We think that…” Baatar scratched at the back of his head. “Sorry. I’m trying to keep this from being weird, and it’s not working.”

“It’s not you.” Kuvira looked down an alleyway with the past crawling up the walls. When she was thirteen, Suyin had denied her request to join the new batch of recruits. She’d taken two loaves of bread and half a roast from the kitchens, her blanket and pillow from her bed, and a handful of silver pieces from Suyin’s office. It was three days before Suyin and Huan found her in that alleyway with a stale heel of bread left, looking for all the world as if she’d lived for three months as a street rat. Her hair was filthy and tangled, her face covered in a film of sweat and dirt, her clothes torn from reckless wanderings. Suyin had made Kuvira wait two more years to join the guard because of her foolishness. “I’m wondering if this time your mother will have less patience for the foolish runaway.”

“She wouldn’t have invited you if she wasn’t willing to forgive you,” Baatar said.

“What if I’m walking into a trap?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Suyin has never had much patience with those she felt slighted her. She tried to kill me multiple times. I hold no grudge, but I cannot guess if she still does. Perhaps I have lived in the dark too long, and it has swallowed my trust, but I am finding it hard to believe that I once again stand within Zaofu, and not as an invader, but an invited guest. This does not feel real.”

Baatar smirked. “If it is a trap, know I’ll have your back. And so will Opal.”

A small comfort. But one that brought a smile to Kuvira’s face, and gave her strength.

When they found Suyin on the training grounds, liquid meteorite flowing between her and a sweating young woman whose teeth were gritted in concentration, Kuvira could almost convince herself she’d walked into her memory. The hug between mother and daughter was much the same as once was when Opal visited while still training as an airbender. The harsh teasing between siblings could have been from a script copied down from a number of breakfasts or dinners. The meteorite which resumed its watery flow between four sets of fingertips still shined the same bright gleam as it had the first time Kuvira dropped it onto the dirt. It was all too familiar. Her eyes darted around for the metal strips aimed at her joints, for the handcuffs clinking in the hands of her arresters.

“You don’t appear to have much luggage,” Suyin said when her attention finally turned to the younger metalbender. “Still, let’s show you to your room. You’ll have a change of clothes there if you want it. Then Baatar and I can show you around.”

The quarters Kuvira had been lent was a guest room within the dorms where Suyin’s children slept, a greater honor than she had expected. Her paranoid eyes darted through the shadowy corners. No trap sprung. After she had changed into the same flowing robes Suyin and her family wore and settled her sparse belongings, Kuvira found Suyin and Baatar Jr. waiting for her. She looked around for the older Baatar, slow to realize Jr. was the Baatar who would be assisting in giving the tour.

“I apologize,” Kuvira said sheepishly. “I assumed you were referring to your husband.”

“Understandable mistake.” Suyin’s smile was a row of hidden daggers that refused to strike. “We’ve tried to avoid calling Baatar Jr. “Junior” as much as possible. It’s caused some confusion, but we’ve managed.”

Baatar’s flustered blush reminded Kuvira of late night compliments around tables within workshops.

They spent the remainder of the day touring the many improvements to the city made since Kuvira last saw the city. EMP devices had been installed at key defensive points within and without the domes. The platinum petals which had replaced those Kuvira tore down were more numerous and scaled. New parks blossomed in a multitude of bright colors in the late spring. Families waved at Suyin when they walked by, a tailor showed off the material she was sewing, two men driving stakes of a fence around their brand new backyard stopped to thank Suyin. Everything was different, yet everything was the same.

A bruised sky accompanied the alarms warning of the impending dome closures while they rode back to the Government Dome. “Impressive,” Kuvira said. “I’m truly glad to have seen this for myself. Opal’s told me some of it, but, and no offense meant, she isn’t as well-equipped in the particulars as you two are.”

“No, she is not,” Baatar agreed, grinning.

“Hey, that’s my daughter,” Suyin said. “If we held a trivia competition about airbending culture, we’d see who was laughing at who then.”

A handful of the Guard waited outside the train car when the doors opened, and Kuvira’s smile flowed away into the cooling night sky. None of them spared so much as a glance her way while bowing to Suyin. Kuvira still watched them warily, constantly braced for a fight while she followed her escort to Suyin’s home.

Suspicion was the lone puppet string holding her weary eyes open after an immense dinner and a detonative dessert threatening to burst her like the tiny fruits baked into Zaofu’s legendary pastries. All but Suyin and Baatar Sr. had excused themselves from the table before Kuvira followed their lead with genuine gratitude towards her hosts. She stepped lightly through the dark hallways, avoiding the ruddy orange betrayals laid on the floor by the torchlight.

Sleep betrayed her as well once she reached her room. Her pillow rejected her, and the blanket wrapped around her like a metal vice. When her door inched open, Kuvira leaped from her bed fully awake and ready for combat.

“Kuvira, are you awake?” Opal whispered.

The metalbender’s guard dropped hardly a blink. “Yes.”

Opal’s smile shined in the dark, and fell dark when she saw Kuvira’s stance. “It’s just me.”

No shadows skulked at her rear. No handcuffs clinked away or glinted in torchlight. Only Opal. Kuvira bowed her head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re still waiting for this all to collapse on top of you? My mother is not insincere. Zaofu is not a pit of snakes waiting to bite you. Seriously, Kuvira, relax.”

“I know.” Kuvira dropped to the bed. “I’ve known since the moment Suyin greeted me. I can’t help myself. This is too much to believe.”

“Well, believe it. We’re trying to give you another chance. Don’t blow it by making Mom think you don’t want to be here.”

“It’s not you that makes me feel unwelcome. It’s the city itself. It’s these walls, this bed, the domes I tore down that needed to be replaced, the people I imprisoned, put in camps, or forced into hard labor. After everything this city and its people did for me, I callously exploited it without a care besides what it could offer my war effort. When we left Zaofu after stripping down the domes, I knew my home was lost to me forever. Yet here I am, and so is Zaofu. It feels wrong. I feel undeserved, unclean, a dirty streak staining Zaofu’s name.”

The bed creaked when Opal sat down. Kuvira rested her forehead on her hands.

“When you spend six years telling yourself you will never see your home again, that you will never be welcome, and then suddenly the family that hated you is willing to forgive and gift it all back, personal acceptance is difficult to obtain. My own mind holds me back now. I’m trying my best to push past.”

Opal’s arms stretched to encircle the metalbender’s wide shoulders. She didn’t say anything; she laid her head on a broad shoulder, trying her best to crush whatever barrier refused Kuvira peace. Dust vibrated off uniform bricks. The barrier began to crush beneath the pressure. The weakest sections at the top began to fall away. One hug would not bring down years of building, but it was a start. Kuvira wrapped an arm around Opal’s waist and rested her cheek in her hair.

“I missed having a sister, so you better get over this quick,” the airbender said, her voice fierce as iron. She was her mother’s daughter.

“I will do my best.”

Weariness returned to Kuvira, but she fought it off as long as possible. Night passed into early morning, full of silly giggles and gossip, before sleep grasped the two women in its metal embrace.

Chapter Text

Suyin was still remarkably quick. Her limbs flowed and her body carried on the wind like a leaf, easily manipulated with every gentle breath. She had always reminded Kuvira of an airbender in that way. Yet she was never off balance, and could seemingly transition between floating above the ground and anchoring herself as immovably as a mountain with every step.

Kuvira remembered quite well the first time she had fought Suyin, back when she was a stubborn, ungrateful young girl quick to distrust and naïve enough to challenge the older woman who had taken her from Ba Sing Se and offered her a home. Suyin was not quite so fast these days as she had been then; time slowed even the best of warriors, and two-and-a-half decades had passed since that day. There were still few Kuvira had ever dueled who could claim to be faster than the woman facing her down currently.

Funny how the past repeated itself. Kuvira was still stubborn, still younger, and had shown the utmost ungratefulness the day she left Zaofu with its best fighters at her back. She was still quick to distrust, and still a homeless vagabond with trust worn thin by expectations learned through hardship. She was again challenging Suyin in battle.

Which was the one area where Kuvira had changed greatly; she was no longer an inferior bender to the woman who had raised and instructed her. And for all her speed, Suyin could not dodge forever.

"I haven't been so thoroughly outclassed since I last sparred with my mother," Suyin gasped afterwards, in between desperate swallows of water. "You've become a remarkable bender. Far better than I ever was."

Kuvira smiled sheepishly. "You're too kind."

"Kind has nothing to do with it. I'm not sure there's anyone besides Korra who could hope to match you."

"The Avatar's more than a match. I learned such the hardest of ways."

Suyin swallowed another long drink of water. Her lips pressed tight to trap an insult. Kuvira had learned to notice these moments, moments where either of them would have jabbed with harsh words mere months ago but now held their tongues, no matter how those tongues pressed hard at their teeth and lips.

"You're sure you want to leave?" Suyin asked. "I was not joking, Kuvira. I would reinstall you as Captain of my Guard immediately if you wished."

Kuvira shook her head. "I'm sure Jiang would take great offense. She's a good woman and Captain. I would not dare rob her of the honor."

"Have you listened to her when she talks about you? She idolizes you. She says she's learned as much in the past two weeks as she had in the last ten years."

"I'm not sure idolizing me is a good sign."

Both women frowned. Kuvira had only been in Zaofu for three days when Guotin and Liu knocked on her door, both of them cloaked in black, to reaffirm their loyalty and the loyalty of half the Guard. They'd also come with a plan. A candle and Kuvira's mind burned long into the night. She still hadn't reached a decision when she closed her door behind her. When she raised a fist to bang on Suyin's door, her other fist tugged gently at the metal strips she wore at her waist. The door opened, her fist relaxed, and she begged a moment of Suyin's time instead. By morning, Guotin, Liu, and their named conspirators were imprisoned. The grudge had passed, the bad blood leeched away. Suyin asked Kuvira to stay in Zaofu to help train recruits to replace the traitors. Tomorrow, that class would graduate.

"They should not idolize the woman you once were," Suyin said. "But they should idolize the woman you are now."

The woman Kuvira was now had spent hours analyzing and revising Guotin's plan, had redrawn Liu's routes and patrols half a dozen times. The woman she was now had nearly acted. Somewhere deep in her mind, lodged permanently, was the dream she had nine years ago when she left Zaofu. That she did not act could be attributed as much to fear of Korra's retribution as any mental rehabilitation.

No, that wasn't true. Not entirely. "I truly appreciate the offer, Su, but I have a goal of my own and I mean to see it through. Your permission for visitation is enough. I may even bring a guest or two if you'll allow me."

Suyin smiled. "I would like that."

Kuvira left for her room and a change out of her sweat-soiled sparring clothing. A map of the Earth Kingdom, gifted to her two nights ago, was marked with circles and her precise, practiced handwriting. All throughout those lands were seeds planted in dead soil, doomed to remain buried until they withered and died. A hundred benders every bit as talented as Kuvira toiled away their potential. Great minds went forgotten. Engineers never saw a machine. Artists and writers never saw a sheet of paper or picked up a pen.

She'd left Zaofu once with the intent to fulfill the potential of her homeland. The retrospect only available in failure made her mistakes clear. Kuvira had tried to impose Zaofu's advancement rather than provide the tools to allow its natural progression. She would not make the same mistake again.

The next day, a servant brought her a fresh gown smelling of flowers for the graduation ceremony. She joined Suyin and her family in the courtyard outside the barracks and watched as each of the graduates swore the oath to their captain and received their armor. Many turned a smile Kuvira's way after they spoke. One young man named Tai spoke thanks to her.

Perhaps she would find more like her to be part of the next graduating class to enter Zaofu's Guard. These past two weeks had been a memory come to life, a swallow of cactus juice transporting her to a time before Ba Sing Se, when her daily concerns revolved around the security of the city and people she loved. The day she received her armor had been the happiest of her life. The day she was named Captain and received her stripes had left her delirious. Watching those who became official now, she had to suppress the urge to stand and voice her acceptance of Suyin's offer. This graduating class was a good one. Liang was a good captain. Zaofu was in capable hands.

Kuvira tried to slip out of the city unnoticed the next morning, as soon as the domes were open. Passage in the company of a merchant's caravan had been arranged. The letter had been written and left on her pillow. It was easier this way. Kuvira lacked fond memories of leaving Zaofu. Informing Suyin of the exact date and time of her departure would leave to unwanted tears, drawn out words and promises she could not be sure to keep. Words that may convince her to stay.

The caravan had only just passed the joining of the two rivers when a familiar grumbling silenced the chirping of the birds. A shadow blanketed the fledgling stripes of morning sun peeking stretching into the valley, and a burst of air flapped at her clothing. Opal's air bison, Juicy, landed with an awkward stumble suggesting it may topple over at any moment. It somehow stayed upright.

"I told you, Mom," Opal said, descending from the monstrous saddle in a gust of wind and offense. Her frown implied no anger, but rather a disappointment like one would expect when a dance recital was missed or a promise was not kept. Wide, sad eyes stared up at Kuvira. "Where do you think you're going?"

The metalbender could not meet those watery orbs, as unmoving as hard metal. "I left a letter."

"I'm sure. So what? We didn't want a letter."

Suyin cautiously slid down to the ground from the bison's back. "That makes me feel better. I thought she let without a word."

"No!" Opal pouted. "No feeling better because of a stupid letter."

"You know I'm bad at goodbyes," Kuvira said.

"But you don't just leave home without telling anyone!"

Kuvira smiled. She still couldn't bring herself to reclaim Zaofu as her home. The wound was still scabbed over and the past too fresh. But she would not disagree when Opal was so adamant. Past experience had taught her to do so was folly.

"This is goodbye?" Suyin asked.

"For now," Kuvira said.

Opal hurried forward to hug her; loose at first, and grown tighter until Kuvira returned the embrace. "Send me a message when you get wherever it is you're going. And let me know the next time you're planning on visiting so I can come, too."

"I will. I promise."

Suyin offered her hand, but upon their meeting pulled Kuvira into a hug as well. Her silence worried Kuvira. Was the hug a false drama to appease Opal? Did Suyin wish to lower Kuvira's defenses in hopes of future vengeance? Could this really all be happening, after so much hate and mistrust?

"I'll tell the others you had urgent business and were called away," the older woman said. "So don't worry about them being mad at you."

This was not forgiveness on either side. Forgiveness for those three years after Kuvira left Zaofu was too much to ask. This was an attempt to move on. An attempt to rid themselves of the anchoring burden of the past and its poisonous influence on their lives. If Suyin and Zaofu were willing to leech that poison, than Kuvira would do everything she could to assist.

The owner of the merchant caravan cleared his throat and tapped his foot. Opal glared at him, and he slinked back towards the driver. "I'll contact both of you when I'm settled," Kuvira said. "Thank you again for the map. It was a great help."

Another round of hugs was exchanged, and the caravan's wheels rumbled down the road. Kuvira took the lead, where no one would see the wet crawling down her cheeks.

They reached a small village, one of the few still qualifying for such description, just after sunset. A curving wall of other caravan wagons formed a barrier wall in front of a large cage containing the horses that pulled them and livestock being transported. Each of the wagons had a stand set up before them stacked with goods for trade. Tough, hard looking guards posted themselves behind the man or woman boasting to attract buyers.

Kuvira noticed the young boy and his intentions immediately. Try as a person might to rid themselves of the anchoring burden of the past, it was never far behind and could be retied to one's ankle at a moment's notice. Kuvira immediately recognized the desperation in the boy's eyes, the way his skin was loose as billowing curtains on his bones, the hand unconsciously rubbing at an empty stomach. When he knelt to retrieve three palm-sized pebbles of rock from the ground, floating them behind his back, she stepped forward.

"That will never work," the metalbender said. The boy startled and launched one of the rocks at her chin. Impressive aim. "It's okay. I won't tell them. When is the last time you had a good meal?"

The boy regarded her with familiar suspicion and legs ready to bolt.

"Believe me, I understand. Right now you think I'm attempting to lower your guard so I can arrest you, or worse. You wouldn't dare trust me. That's fine. I won't ask you to trust me. What I wish to ask is this; will anything stop you from running if I buy us a little food?"

"Nothing that can stop me," the boy answered cockily.

"Then let's eat. I'm quite hungry as well. What's your name?"

"Xiaobo."

"You're quite accurate with your bending. Much better than I was at your age, wandering in and out of Ba Sing Se."

Xiaobo's narrowed eyes grew less hostile. "You've been to Ba Sing Se?"

"Oh yes, many, many times. When I was your age, though, I wanted nothing more than to leave."

"Why?"

"Same reason you thought it possible to steal some food from a heavily guarded merchant stand with three rocks. I was desperate, hungry, and willing to try anything."

Xiaobo crossed his arms and frowned. "I could have done it. I'm good." To prove his point, the boy bent another rock into his hand and sent it dead-center through a flapping flag atop one of the wagons. It ricocheted off the animal pen and fell to the dirt. "See?"

"Yes," Kuvira said, smiling. "I do see."

"Xiaobo!"

A woman hurried over to the boy. Her face was filthy and her clothes ragged. An equally shabby man was slower to her side. "I told you never to use your bending on other people's belongings." She turned to Kuvira. "I hope he hasn't bothered you."

Kuvira shook her head. "Not at all. Are you two his parents?"

The couple nodded.

"In that case, how about I buy us all dinner?"

Chapter Text

Kids had always been something of a distant dream for Korra, a responsibility later on, during one of the many lifetimes within a lifetime a person lives. She wanted them, for sure, she loved children and thought she was pretty good with them, but little rugrats of her own were something for a future Korra, when she'd beaten the world into peace and there wasn't quite so much to do. Until that day came, she could satisfy her motherly instincts elsewhere. Mako had his daughter, Jinora had her baby boy, Opal and Bolin had their twins, Kuvira had her orphans. All of them were more than willing to pawn their kids off on Korra when she volunteered. There was no hurry. Korra had resigned herself to the idea.

Which only made it more surprising when Asami suggested they adopt.

Not to speak ill of her wife, but Asami had played something of a part in delaying Korra's motherhood as well. Sami was too rational, and not so prone to the same urges that drove Korra to research adoption agencies or stare entirely too long at the kids Kuvira took in. It might have been different with someone else, someone who was home or at least had a job with predictable hours. That wasn't the life Korra chose. Which she was totally okay with. Asami was a wonderful, beautiful person that she was amazingly happy with, even more so after ten years than the day they were married. And Sami was totally right. Neither of them were home enough to commit to children, and she was not ready to raise a kid herself if the day came where Korra didn't come home.

Korra's rationality was chased off quicker than an alley cat when Asami approached her. She'd squealed like a schoolgirl and bounced around the house, ready to leave that moment, entirely oblivious to the moon hanging full in a dark sky. Sleep evaded the Avatar that night.

The Avatar had always dreamt about what her kid would look like. Sometimes it was a pudgy boy with Asami's hair and her pout. Sometimes it was an elegant girl with blue eyes like ice in the sunrise, with the maturity of someone twice her age and the rebellious spirit of a wild polar bear dog. There was no single ideal image Korra had for her child. Which made her shake like she was bare-skinned in a blizzard the day she and Asami took their daughter home. Korra couldn't have decided on a single child among the orphans if she'd been given ten years to do so. The overwhelming joy she felt while walking out the front door holding Daiyu's small hand just barely outraced the guilt she felt about those left behind.

Six years later, the idea of leaving that orphanage with anyone besides Daiyu felt ridiculous. Korra grinned while she watched her daughter dance around the lawn, the girl's face scrunched in concentration while she practiced her firebending technique. Daiyu didn't care that she couldn't bend fire. She didn't care that she was unable to bend air or the earth, either. Her Avatar Mom could bend all four elements, and so she wanted to practice, too. Just like she wanted to help Asami in the garage and spent hours mimicking the blueprints in the upstairs office.

The past six years had been hard. The hardest of Korra's life. She wanted to laugh at the thought, to say that was clearly not true in comparison to the hardships Korra had faced. Long nights spent fussing over the hundreds of little problems involved in raising her daughter told her she was not exaggerating. Newfound willingness to adopt did not erase the issues which stalled the idea before. Too many nights passed where neither Korra or Asami were home with their daughter. Too many weeks and months passed where Korra was separated from her family. Stress built and released in volcanic arguments, the ash bitter in her mouth.

If anyone questioned whether she and Asami regretted the decision, the Avatar hoped that adopting Huiling five years after her sister silenced those questions.

A gust of air whipped Daiyu square in the face, sending thin tendrils of her raven hair whipping around. She shoved her hair angrily out of her eyes and whirled in circles. Twice her sister's giggling grin and messy white hair went unnoticed. Korra stepped outside before the two girls decided to test their bending on each other.

"How about we go to the gym and see if today's the day you two beat me?" she suggested. That brought a smile to the faces of both her daughters. If there was one thing Daiyu and Huiling could always find common ground about, it was their attempts to topple the Avatar.

Huiling had proven…different. No harder, no easier, but an experience entirely unique, like the difference in a blizzard in Republic City compared to her home, the Southern Water Tribe. You end up buried beneath snow either way, but the challenges varied greatly. Huiling was aloof where Daiyu was focused. Conceptual where her sister was practical. Funny rather than serious. Relaxed instead of tense. Thankfully, the girl was as oblivious to the implications behind her airbending as Korra and Asami were about the white locks sprouting from her scalp. Neither woman could help but eye Tenzin's airbenders resentfully, wondering which of them Huiling had come from and how they could possibly abandon her. It didn't really matter. Huiling was their daughter. To the Fog with anyone who said otherwise.

To say that she worried about losing to them in sparring was an overstatement. Daiyu and Huiling were little girls, talented little girls but little girls all the same, and Korra was the Avatar. But she had to work harder than ever to stay in control against their attacks. The girls were finally learning the benefits of cooperation. Insecurity and competition drove the girls to want to prove themselves individually, their airbending and waterbending easily dealt with.

It was after a particularly one-sided session, where frustration drove Korra to not allow the usual encouraging concessions to her daughters, that the two finally found compassion enough to help. Korra smiled as she dodged air and water, remembering Daiyu's angry sneer while she whipped unexpectedly with the water pooled in the bowl at the side of the gym. The attack caught Korra entirely by surprise, leaving her open to a blast of air that nearly knocked her off her feet. Huiling smiled an uncharacteristically prideful smile. Daiyu cheered like she just won the pro-bending championship.

From that day forward, the two always found time to train together, no matter how angry they were at each other. Toppling Mom was more important than their rivalries. The day would come when they succeeded, the day when they were grown, strong, entering the prime of their lives while Korra was shoved out of the back door. As Daiyu stumbled off the sparring mats and Huiling fell on her face, Korra smiled. She had pride as well, and today was not that day.

Daiyu shouted angrily and tossed her helmet to the floor. "One day, Mom. One day."

Korra stuck out her tongue while helping Huiling to her feet with a hug and a kiss. She tried to give Daiyu her own kiss, but the older sibling ducked away with a roll of her eyes. She was growing up, it was nothing personal. That didn't stop Korra from frowning.

"My face hurts," Huiling whined.

"I bet, you took quite a tumble," Korra said. "How about we go raid the freezer for ice cream?"

"Mom wouldn't like that."

Korra's mouth twisted in contemplation. "Let's ask then. 'Hey, Daiyu and Huiling's mom, can they have ice cream?'" She tapped her fingers against a bicep, as if thinking. "Well, I think I'm okay with it. Should I ask myself again?"

Huiling giggled and snorted. Daiyu rolled her eyes again. Used to be both of them would laugh, but then again Korra could remember the day she stopped laughing at her parents' awful jokes, and she definitely took after her father in that regard.

"We'll have only a little," Korra said. "I'll clean the dishes so Mom never knows. Okay? I know you two won't actually turn down ice cream."

Even Daiyu couldn't resist smiling at that.

A miniscule smudge gave the scheme away. Asami had to admit, it was pure luck that she noticed. Tough days always gravitated her to the bowl of fruit in the kitchen. Afterwards she always needed to wash the sticky juice off her fingers in the sink. The washed bowls and spoons sat drying on the hand towel she used to dry off her hands. Most days, Asami's servants would have long ago stored the clean dishes back in their cupboards by now. Korra had scrubbed them diligently. All except a tiny smudge on one spoon.

Which explained the absence of Asami's usual welcoming party. Biological or no, Daiyu and Huiling were definitely Korra's daughters, and guilt would drive them into hiding just the same. Asami considered feigning anger, but she couldn't do it. She had too much real anger boiling her blood throughout her working hours. Her girls made her too happy to fake that feeling at home.

Family life had been amazing that way. Korra had been a wonderful wife, but she often spent her days mired in stress as well. On those treasured nights they were allowed together, there was nothing to distract each other from their hardships, and they could only wait for the contentedness of their companionship to drain the stress away. Sometimes it never quite did.

Children never allowed Asami to wallow in the anger of the day. They had their own problems, their own stresses, their own concerns. They provided a stress all their own, one that never failed to distract Asami from professional concerns. It wasn't always easy. She and Korra had often devolved into shouting matches over familial disagreements. But Asami would be a liar to claim her family had not drastically improved her life for the better.

So why bother pretending to be angry over a little unauthorized ice cream?

She found her girls in Huiling's room, listening to the preview coverage of that night's pro-bending matches. Korra was the first to sense Asami. As always. Her cheeks burned and she waved meekly, always the bad liar. Daiyu was better, but no eleven-year-old could deceive Asami. Huiling was detached as ever and ran to hug her mom.

Asami embraced her youngest daughter tightly, the anchor weighing her in place while the tide sucked her worries out to sea. It was that simple. The day was over and now she had her family. "I want to hear all about your day!" she said happily.

Huiling glared over at Korra. "Mommy still beats us bending. It's not fair."

"Well, that explains the bruise on your chin."

"Can you beat Mommy?"

Korra snorted.

"Yes," Daiyu said. She bowed her head sheepishly when the attention turned her way. "Mom's smart. She knows how to find what you're weak at and beat you. Mommy wouldn't want to hurt her, so Mom would win."

Asami smiled. For years she had wondered what she did wrong with the older of her daughters. Korra was the favorite. Korra was the one she had the most fun with. Korra was the one she told everything to first. A shift had occurred lately, though. Suddenly Daiyu was wincing at the jokes as much as she laughed. She started sitting down with Asami and talking more. She wandered out to help when Asami tuned her vehicles.

"You might be right about that," Korra said. "But we all know no one can beat me one on one if I want to hurt them. I'm the Avatar." She punctuated the remark with a flex of her biceps that flushed Asami's chest and neck. "And besides, your Mom and I have gotten out of hand while sparring. It's not something we want to do again."

The girls began whispering back and forth. They'd leave the conversation with their own opinions. Asami wouldn't correct them. She knew the truth. The wonderful, ego-boosting truth.

Though so tired that her bones felt like the liquefied meteorite Suyin Beifong used in training, unnatural and easily manipulated, Asami did not sleep that night. Sleep was a gift refused to her when Korra received her impromptu calls. She watched her wife stuff a knapsack with a couple weeks worth of clothing, her blanket pulled up around her chin, her eyes puffy from exhaustion and regret.

Korra pulled the knapsack shut before smiling apologetically. "Hey, at least this isn't happening as often as it used to. People got the message."

"I'm not mad, Korra," Asami said. "I promise. I'm just worried. The girls don't like when you aren't here in the morning."

"I don't like it either." Korra knuckled angrily at a tearing eye. "Tell them I love them. And that I'm really sorry."

Asami didn't have to tell their daughters such obvious truths. Both girls knew it. Maybe Huiling would need a brief talk. Mommy was the Avatar. The Avatar sometimes had to go deal with the world's stupid problems. Just like Mom had to at her office.

Perhaps there was a time when the pitter-patter of tiny feet on the soft carpeting in the hallway would have gone unheard, but parental fears had long tuned Asami's ears to that broadcast frequency. She and Korra both turned towards the door moments before the knob twisted and two heads poked through.

"Did Mommy leave yet?" Daiyu asked.

"No," Korra said. "Come on in."

The girls jumped up on the bed. "So which of you played spy this time?" Asami asked. Apparently the broadcast was still capable of playing too low for her.

"Me," Huiling said proudly.

"Sorry, girls," Korra said. She was trying her best to disguise her sorrow.

"It's okay." Daiyu smiled. "You're the Avatar. You don't know when you have to go beat up bad guys. We're not angry."

Korra placed her knapsack on the ground. Now that the conflict stood before her, she would deal with it the same way she dealt with every conflict; she would run right at it. "I love you two. You know I don't like to leave, but you know why I have to. And you know that I'll fight as hard as I can to come back. So you better be ready for a bunch of big hugs when I do!"

The girls giggled and squealed when Korra lifted them, sexily easily, into the air, squeezing them tight. Motherhood had given Asami innumerous reasons to love her wife, on top of the innumerous reasons she already loved her wife, and this was one of the best reasons. Korra never said goodbye with tears. She would not leave the house until both their daughters were smiling, laughing, and waving eagerly.

"I've had too many sad goodbyes," Korra told Asami before. "I don't want to see my daughters like that."

The problem came afterwards, when the temporary happiness Korra's personality infused whisked away, leaving the sadness to hit afterwards. Surprisingly, Huiling was the first to frown. She snuck up on the bed again and leaned against Asami. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

"Of course." Asami kissed her temple. "You want to spend the night with us, Daiyu?"

Her eldest wanted to say no. She wanted to say she was too old for slumber parties in her mom's bed. Too old for needing Asami to make her feel safe at night. She climbed on the bed. It wasn't about safety, and it wasn't only for her comfort.

Probably the most surprising thing about family life was how it eased Korra's absence. For years, Asami had assumed those many lonely nights would be the hardest part of motherhood. It was the roadblock in her mind deciding her against being a parent. Her own loneliness and sorrow when Korra was off facing danger was enough of a burden. The thought of adding a child's naïve sadness to her own was the last thing in the world she wanted.

She couldn't say any specific thing changed her mind. One day she was in her office, ready to start on the next round of paperwork on her desk, when she realized there was nothing else. Business had finally slowed to a manageable level. Enough responsibility had been delegated elsewhere. Her hours had grown manageable. And she…wanted a child. It was like the flip of a switch. She was ready.

Huddled with her girls in bed, their small bodies pressed against her, her arms draped softly over their shoulders, Asami felt her lips curve into a smile. She wondered how she ever dealt with Korra's absence without her daughters. She wondered how Korra dealt with the same.

"Goodnight, Mom," Daiyu said. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Mom," Huiling said.

Asami pulled her daughters even closer. "I love you two more than anything. Now go to sleep!"

The girls giggled, and laughed wildly when Mom tickled their sides.

Chapter Text

Asami tried her hardest to stow the anger and frustration deep down, somewhere where she could feel it rise and shove it right back down. The last thing Korra needed was anger. The last thing she needed was someone to remind her why she should swallow every spoonful of half-false praise and smiles cautiously. The last thing Asami wanted to do was replace Korra’s smile with a frown.

It was monumentally difficult to not do so.

She watched stoically, expression trained by years on the corporate and political stages, as the same faces and voices which decried Korra from the moment she stepped off the boat in Republic City and onto the world stage spoke into the microphone as if they’d never spoken a bad word about the Avatar. Raiko’s smug expression had the audacity to appear as if Korra’s successes should be credited to him. His words spoke much the same. That was the one moment where the ice of Asami’s expression melted. Thankfully, Korra did not seem to notice.

Or maybe she felt a self-satisfying smugness over watching these sycophantic phonies stumble over themselves to attach their names to hers. The same phonies whose opinions shifted on the wind like a leaf. Maybe she was happy to have back the praise and respect she craved. For a young woman so strong, it always surprised Asami how much Korra wanted the love of others, and how important it was to her for the Avatar to be loved. That craving was the hunger fueling much of her recklessness over the years. It was the reason she made the choices she made during Amon’s uprising. It drove her to Unalaq’s side. It caused her many sleepless nights spent staring at the soft glow of Republic City from the coast of Air Temple Island. And her craving for the Avatar to be loved was the reason Korra had disappeared from the world.

Asami had drawn the truth of those three years from her lover piece by piece over those few weeks spent in the Spirit World. How Korra’s physical therapy had gradually weakened her will to the same sunken depths as her confidence. How she had avoided her parents and her friends back in Republic City. How close she had come to giving up. The difficulties she had experienced writing that wonderful, life-saving letter that Asami still kept beneath a stack of outdated contracts in a locked cabinet in her office. And finally, the decision to strike off on her own.

Those stories had been the hardest of all. Asami had only known one Korra; the outgoing, strong young woman who took great pride in who she was, no matter what anyone thought of her. The thought of Korra hiding was impossible to match with the person Asami knew. It had hurt. She’d spent entire nights awake listening to Korra snore peacefully in her bedroll, and wondered over long hours what she could have done differently. If she should have tried harder to stay in contact after Korra left for the South Pole. If she should have left with the Avatar no matter what Korra said. If Asami should have kept her from leaving to begin with.

They had come out the other side stronger, as Asami had known they would. Whatever doubts still hid in the shadows of the past were irrelevant. Asami trusted her girlfriend beyond reproach. She had always trusted Korra in everything, and never been steered wrong. Korra had emerged from doubt, weakness, and pain a stronger person and Avatar, an amazing woman that Asami felt blessed to follow no matter what path she chose.

When Raiko finished his questionably sincere claims of Korra’s inspiration on the city and himself, and welcomed her to the podium, Asami stood alongside her girlfriend and saw her off with a smile and a gentle squeeze of her shoulder. Korra strutted to the stand with a satisfied grin on her face she had earned many times over. The applause of the crowd gradually died away, and she cleared her throat before speaking the necessary platitudes Asami had taught her to thank those she needed to thank.

“Republic City has been through a lot since I arrived, and while my relationship with this city hasn’t always been the smoothest or the happiest, I would do anything to save the people who live here. Kuvira’s invasion did a lot of damage throughout the Earth Kingdom as well, and while I will have to do my part as the Avatar to help stabilize their nation as well, I promise I will play an active role in helping Republic City recover. I love this city…” Korra snuck a quick peak Asami’s way. “…and its people too much not to help.”

Asami watched the crowd clap and cheer, highly amused. Kneeling closest to the podium, of course, were the media, some scribbling Korra’s statement on their notepads and calling out questions while others snapped their cameras. Seated behind them were the wealthy and influential, almost all of who clapped politely and out of necessity, though some seemed genuine. Including a few of Asami’s business partners, she happily noted.

Crowded shoulder to shoulder at the rear of the crowd was the most fickle group of all, the general public. Today they loved the Avatar. Two days ago they hated the Avatar. Who knew what their opinion would be tomorrow?

Korra seemed to give it no such thought. She grinned happily and pumped her fists. She pointed at media members she recognized, regardless of her like or dislike, and said hello. She turned towards Asami’s seat and jogged lazily over. She wrapped her strong arms around her girlfriend’s waist and pulled her into a hard kiss.

By the time Asami’s heart stopped pounding against her sternum like a caged animal and the blood in her cheeks remembered all the other parts of her body it needed to flow to, she noticed the murmurs spreading through the crowd, rising in volume like a train roaring down the tracks. She and Korra had planned to step on the tracks to face the thing down eventually. Asami hadn’t expected today to be that day.

“Do you realize what you just did?” she asked her girlfriend.

Korra worried at her bottom lip. “Mm-hmm.”

The questions poured from every mouth at once, from the reporters up front to those unfortunate late arrivals only now having it confirmed to them what the Avatar had done. Korra stepped past a stunned President Raiko and back to the podium. “I will spend one hour answering questions at six P.M. tonight. Think them over, because once that hour is up I’m not spending another second discussing this matter in public.”

She took Asami’s hand and pulled her off stage to the repetitive music of hundreds of questions.

It wasn’t until they were in Asami’s car, cruising leisurely back to Asami’s penthouse suite, that Korra threw her head back and laughed herself silly. “I can’t believe I just did that. Oh well.”

Asami tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “You mean you didn’t plan that?”

“Of course not. Total accident.”

She couldn’t help it. Asami laughed, too. She laughed so hard she swerved into the oncoming lane, pulled hard to right the vehicle, jerked to a stop along the side of the road, and waited until her breath returned, her blurry eyes cleared, and her mind resumed its normal logical processes. Of course Korra hadn’t planned to kiss her in public. For an all too brief, all too hopeful moment, Asami thought her girlfriend had picked up a trait of hers and meticulously planned the when, where, and how of announcing their relationship to the world. It felt soon, but appreciation of the effort kept Asami silent. But of course Korra hadn’t done such a thing. It was another of her typical uncontrolled impulses.

“I’m impressed,” Asami said. “You were completely composed and handled the media exactly how you needed to. That you didn’t plan to kiss me right then makes your reaction even more impressive.”

Korra shrugged. “I pick things up from you. Not as much as I’d like, but some things. And no matter what those suck ups today said, I have a lot to pick up.”

“Don’t talk like that. I hate when you put yourself down.”

“I’m not putting myself down. I’m telling the truth.” Korra stared outside the car, ignorant of Asami’s frown. “I used to love press conferences like that, where a bunch of people I don’t know went on and on about how great I am and how much they love having me around. I didn’t care that they didn’t mean a single word of it. Today kind of sucked. My face hurts bad from all that smiling.”

Asami reached a hand over to brush Korra’s cheek, and the Avatar took gentle hold, interlacing their fingers.

“You deserve the praise, whether you like it or not,” Asami said. “You’re amazing.”

Korra rolled her eyes. “You should drive.”

Asami pulled into the parking garage, and Korra again took her hand as they ascended to the top floor of the hotel. She smiled happily. While this more reflective, vulnerable Korra was still a new and trying experience, Asami was happy to spend time knowing her, even if knowing her was not easy.

Korra had wasted little time since moving into the penthouse putting her personal touch on the space. Discarded handwraps hung out the top of a trash bin. An empty takeout carton from two days ago still sat on the table beside the couch. Korra kicked off her boots, not bothering to pick up the one that tipped over.

“What’s wrong, Korra? Asami said, delicately slipping her shoes off as well.

Maybe the Korra before would have shrugged at the question. She would have played it off with a noncommittal shrug and a lopsided grin. She would have huffed angrily when Asami pressed. Even now, that was the Korra Asami prepared for.

“They still treat me like I’m immortal, like I’m perfect. It wears on you. I’m totally regretting kissing you now.” Korra startled, wide-eyed and hands out apologetically. “Not like that. I mean, I didn’t think this out at all. The more thought I actually put into what I did, the stupider I feel. I’m already cringing at the stuff that will be written about us, no matter what I say tonight. And why in the world did I promise a press conference tonight? I could have said tomorrow, or two days from now, or at some time to be determined so I could delay it as long as possible. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I was kind of shocked out of my wits,” Asami said. She smirked seductively. “And not just by the surprise. You have some special lips, Avatar Korra.”

The blush and that adorably lopsided grin showed the tactic was the correct call. “Um, anytime.”

“I’ll help. We can have a joint conference. That way I won’t have to give my own. Don’t worry about how to answer their questions.”

“I’m not.” Korra placed her hands on her hips. “You’re my girlfriend, and if people don’t like that they’ll have to deal with it.”

“So why are you worried?”

“Because why should I have to do this at all? It’s just like when Mako and I dated. People seem to be surprised that the Avatar has a love life at all, and it’s stupid. I’m not just some flesh sack puppet solely dedicated to my duties. I have friends, family, and sometimes I want a girlfriend! Why is that such a big deal?!”

Asami watched as Korra collapsed on the coach, mouth set in a hard line. She sat beside her.

“They love me now, but what happens the next time I fail? I’ll be mocked and disgraced, just like always. Even when I do the right thing and defeat the bad guy, I always hear how the Avatar did this wrong and the Avatar did that wrong, or why didn’t the Avatar do this or that better? I’m human. A messed up human who had trouble even walking a year ago. What happens if another Zaheer manages to do that to me again? I’ll be left all alone because no one cares about Korra. I’ll be that stupid Avatar who failed.”

Asami grabbed Korra’s hand, which was calm as a still lake. Asami’s hand had already been trembling. Now it shook violently. She wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, trying to calm herself. Korra’s heart beat easily. Her body was slack. Too much like before. She was too much like that barely conscious husk Asami had wheeled to Jinora’s ceremony three years ago.

“You will never be alone,” Asami whispered firmly. “Never. Not ever. Mako and Bolin will always be your friends. Tenzin and his family wouldn’t hesitate to bend the entire world for you. Su, Lin, Opal, they would all drop everything on a moment’s notice if you needed them. And no matter what happens…” Asami gestured between them. “…with us, I will always be your friend, and I will always follow you into the darkest, most evil places in the world if you asked.”

“That’s the problem.” Korra furrowed her eyebrows. “You would only do that because I’m the Avatar and you have too much faith that I would protect you no matter what. It’s all about the power Raava gives me.”

“No, it’s all about you,” Asami said. “You’re not wrong about all the people out there who don’t care about you, about Korra, but that’s because they’re ignorant. They wrongly assume your good nature is a product of your Avatar spirit. No one knows you better than your friends and loved ones, and we all know that it’s Korra that is good, and it is Korra that we follow. Whatever your faults, you are worth it. If you lost your bending tomorrow, I wouldn’t care. I’d be right there with you and so would anyone who truly knows you.”

Korra shrugged, but her lips curved upwards. It was enough for now. The restoration of Korra’s confidence was a continuing struggle. The landing at the top was in sight, but there were more stairs to climb. Asami would walk every step with her.

“You’re pretty great yourself, Ms. Sato.” Korra leaned in and kissed Asami, blushing absurdly. Asami would have teased her if she didn’t turn that same tomato color over every stupid little romantic gesture. “So, about tonight. Do you want to write out what we’ll say? Should we talk about what questions we’ll be asked? I’m still clueless about this stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Asami tossed her hair back, reveling in the way Korra bit her lip. “Like you said, we’re dating. If anyone has a problem, they’ll have to deal with it.”

Korra grinned madly, pumped a fist, and cheered.

Chapter Text

Three copper coins rattled in the dented tin at Weimin’s knees, each so dull and worn they seemed to suck in and darken the afternoon sun rather than reflect it. The teenager rubbed at his dirt-streaked face, watching the parades of feet kicking up dust as they passed. By this point, he should probably take feel less offended by the way they ignored him. Each cloud of dust coating his clothes only made him angrier.

“Anything you can spare,” he called out, rapping a finger against the tin. “Anything at all. Money, food, clothing, bandages…”

Six pairs of feet carried equal pairs of ears out away from his voice. No one so much as spared him a glance, too wrapped up in their own conversations to notice the dirty, starving boy beside the street. Those without a friend to distract them picked at loose threads in their shirt, or whistled, or coughed, anything to drown out Weimin’s voice.

An older man with a lined, weathered face made the mistake of looking him in the eyes. “Please, sir,” Weimin begged. “Anything you can spare.”

All the old man had to spare were eyes staring through him and a sneer.

Weimin had tried things this way for four days now. He wiped away the sweat dripping into his eyes as he stared up at the sun, falling quicker than his hopes of an honest meal. Hard rumbles like a roaring fire bellowed in his stomach. Stolen pears and apples had been his only meals for two days. Three coppers might be enough for a quarter-loaf of bread. He wasn’t sure if the baker would even sell him that little bread.

More walked by, and he didn’t bother calling anymore. A young married couple snuck guilty glances his way. A tall, hard-faced woman watched him while she waited for a courier, as if suspecting his less than legal intentions. A businessman wearing green silk walked with his chin held head high, sneering down at the crowd. His polished shoes kicked Weimin’s tin.

“Watch yourself, beggar!” he shouted. An unvoiced insult died in the teenager’s throat when the businessman walked away, grumbling to himself.

“Forget this,” Weimin whispered. He stood, emptied the coppers into his hand, shoved them in his pants pocket, and left the tin where it was. He wouldn’t use it again.

The meat market was even busier than he’d hoped. And smelled better than he feared. Saliva pooled in his mouth at the smell of charring steaks, breasts, and wings. Skewers steamed. Even the raw slabs bleeding on cutting boards stoked the fire still blazing in Weimin’s stomach.

Every purveyor was engaged with crowds of clients, uncaring of the poor, thin, dirty boy skulking nearby. The armed guards whose responsibility it was to care were too busy with the arguing masses of clients. Weimin snatched a worn sack hanging carelessly from a fat woman’s belt loop. The stinging swarm of haggling voices carried on unnoticed. He turned the sack over in his hands, making sure there were no identifying marks to give away that it was stolen; he’d faced such a problem before, in a different town. Denying your crime is hard when another person’s initials are stitched into the cloth. One of the many mistakes he’d learned to avoid.

Two of the larger stalls stood neighbor to each other, and drew the most attention. Both were U-shaped, with counters as tall as Weimin’s chest covered end to end with exotic cuts Weimin did not recognize. Variety, he thought with a smile. You can only eat so much rabbit or hippo cow before you crave something new. Even if you’re poor. The two women who owned the smaller of the stalls were busy up front with their customers, and their guards were too busy with the press to notice one stray figure sneak to the corner to their left.

For all his desire of variety, Weimin was indiscriminate as he snatched goods off the counter and tossed them in the stolen sack. When it was a quarter full, he moved off to the other stall, waited for his opportunity. He stopped when the sack was half-full. Besides the greed, and besides the fact too much would spoil, the sack had quickly grown heavy and it would be like dragging the stupid animals themselves if he took much more.

He turned around after one more slab of pork, and ran right into someone’s chest. A gloved hand held up a bulging coin purse. The other took firm hold of Weimin’s shoulder. “Over here!” The hand shook the purse, the coins within clinking loudly.

One of the women hurried over. She directed an ugly yellow frown at the sack in the teenager’s hand. “No one touches the meat but us.”

“I’m sure this is enough to excuse our poor manners.” The gloved hand tossed the money over. Weimin dared to look up, and was surprised to look into a woman’s face. A mole sat below one of her green eyes. “We apologize profusely.”

The stall keeper opened the purse. Her mouth gaped much the same. “Yes, yes that’s enough. But don’t make a habit of it.”

Weimin’s captor nodded. “Come on,” she said, leading him away.

“I recognize you,” he said when they had left the market square. “You were watching me earlier.”

“You stood out. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“And you probably didn’t need it, but I was looking for an opening. You chose well. Most go for the smaller stalls, thinking them less protected. You knew that it is easiest to hide in a large crowd. You’ve done this often I assume.”

“Yeah. If you’re going to bust me, go ahead. Can I ask a favor, though?”

“I’m not taking you to the authorities. I wouldn’t dare separate you from whatever family is hoping you return home with that sack.”

Weimin’s eyes widened. “How do you know? Have you been following me since I got here?”

“Not at all. I simply know the motives behind young children driven to theft. Who is it?”

“My mother.”

The woman nodded. “I imagine we should hurry with that food before she begins to worry.” She held out a large hand. “My name is Kuvira. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Weimin.” Her grip closed gently around his hand, a slight suggestion of her true strength.

The teenager led down one large street, turned left onto another, and left onto one barely smaller. Down an alley was a door cracked and splintered. When he and his mother first arrived and began living past that door, he liked to imagine how the door ended up so beaten. Fantasies of late night raids on bandit hideouts made him feel dangerous when he left every morning. Those fantasies became nightmares when he saw the police drag a family out of a house across the street from where he rattled his tin.

His mother’s shadow sat up like a ghost when the door closed. “Weimin?”

“It’s me, Mom. I brought food. And…a friend.”

She stood on legs even shakier than the day before. Her eyes were dark shadows within her thin face. Even so, the frown she gave when she saw the amount of meat in the sack was every bit Weimin’s mother. “You stole again?”

“No, ma’am,” Kuvira said. “Consider it a gift from a charitable citizen.”

Weimin watched his mother’s hazy eyes narrow. “K-Kuvira?” She dropped to her knees with a loud crack through the joints. “Um, pardon my manners, Great Uniter. I hope my son did not give you any trouble.”

“Wait, you’re that Kuvira?” Weimin asked.

“Kneel, Weimin!” his mother hissed.

“Please, don’t,” Kuvira said. Her hard mouth set into a frown. “I’m no Great Uniter anymore. Only a concerned citizen.”

Weimin’s mother had told him many stories about Kuvira, the metalbender who set out to unite the Earth Kingdom after the Earth Queen’s assassination and became one of the most infamous tyrants in the nation’s history. He bolted for his crumpled blanket in the corner, ignored his mother’s calls, grabbed a knife he’d stolen two towns back, and sent it spinning end over end towards the tall, broad-shouldered woman standing beside the sack.

Kuvira caught it well short and floated it over to her hand.

“Weimin!” His mother broke down in a fit of hacking, wheezing coughs.

The metalbender kneeled beside her. “How long has she been sick?”

“She’s not sick, she just needs to eat,” Weimin said. “So leave and let us eat.”

“Please…” Another cough sent spasms through his mother’s chest. “Please don’t tell anyone we’re here. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

Kuvira’s frown only settled deeper. Long lines gouged through her forehead. “I apologize. I know my reputation, but I truly want nothing more than to help. Please, I’ll explain while you eat.”

*

Weimin hadn’t ridden in a vehicle for years. Since his father died in Ba Sing Se. He didn’t remember his stomach bumping and jolting with every bump and jolt in the road, but after a particularly rough hole sent him flying off his seat, he had to swallow the urge to vomit. Again.

“Do I need to stop again?” Kuvira called from the driver’s seat.

Weimin groaned out a, “No.”

“Only a little further. We’re almost there.”

The sight of the academy itself didn’t settle the teenager’s stomach much. At best, it settled the sloshing waves into a bubbling, acidic swamp. The jeep passed through an arched tunnel running through one of the four buildings, and reemerged in a large square courtyard. Scattered groups of kids and adults kicked balls around a field, or practiced bending on laid out mats, or read beneath the shade of a tree.

“This is very nice,” Weimin’s mother said. Her voice was not quite so rough, and the color had returned to her skin, but a cough still lingered. “Are you here often?”

“As often as I can be,” Kuvira said. “I enjoy my work around the Earth Kingdom, but this is my home. I know what it is like to have nothing and no one, and to give others who also know that feeling a home.”

She stopped the jeep beside a wall. Two small girls ran by squealing, waving and shouting hello. Kuvira smiled and waved back.

“How many live here?”

“Nearly a hundred now. In fact, if you two decide to stay, we might actually reach triple digits.” Kuvira took a deep, relaxed breath. “How about a tour?”

Weimin followed silently while Kuvira led him and his mother around the academy, in each building, offering explanations for everything. He was happy to let his mother do all the talking; whether they would stay was as much her choice as his, and she was clearheaded enough to ask questions that actually mattered. All Weimin could think to ask was completely irrelevant. Whether that was really stew he smelled, whether every book was as big as the one that one boy carried, whether it was really this hot all the time.

They looked in on a history class taught by a tall, smiling man with long hair running down his back. “History of the Earth Kingdom, mostly,” Kuvira said, “but he covers relevant time periods and events in other nations.” They watched adults and children of both genders work at sewing machines and piles of cloth. “I don’t sell a stitch,” Kuvira insisted. “It’s all for us. And if you don’t want to sew, or don’t like what is sewn, there are three modestly sized towns within reasonable distance. There are three other jeeps besides my own, and adults have free reign to take them wherever they wish, so long as they return in timely fashion.”

They watched three separate bending classes, one each for earth, fire, and water. The earthbending class was the largest, which made sense, but attendance in the fire and water classes was surprisingly large.

“A lot of benders,” Weimin said.

“Yes.”

“I…can’t bend. Not sure if you know that. I hope that isn’t a problem.”

Kuvira smiled and rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Of course not. And you should not worry that non-benders suffer any sort of discrimination or lack of attention. If anything, inability to bend shines light on the options within this academy of which I take greatest pride. As I’m sure you and your mother know, benders tend to gravitate towards conflict. They feel obligated to join militaries, police forces, private security and the like. Hopefully you will find interests elsewhere.”

She led them through garages where mechanics rebuilt engines and fine-tuned the vehicles they belonged in. She showed them writing classes where teachers explained the fundamentals of good stories and grammar. She showed them engineering classes, culinary classes, classes on military strategy, math classes, navigation on both land and sea, medical classes for waterbenders and non-benders both. She showed them classes on almost everything Weimin could imagine. “And you can choose absolutely any of it,” Kuvira said.

“What about my mom?” Weimin asked.

“She’s free to attend any classes she wishes, to help with upkeep and supplies, to help with the general running of the academy in whichever capacity she feels capable, or to simply focus on you. I wish to help you as much as your son, Ushi. You deserve every opportunity to better yourself, if you wish. If you wish to work, you will be paid a reasonable salary. And there’s no reason you can’t do both.”

When the tour was done, Kuvira led Weimin and his mother back to a large kitchen where scattered cliques of other kids laughed, some with food on trays before them and some without. They each grabbed a tray of their own and sat at a circular table in a corner. “Whatever I wish, this is your decision,” the metalbender said. “I give every potential resident on the academy the same deal. You have a week to experience everything it has to offer. You can sit in on classes, you can join in our meals, and you meet the others who call the academy home. When that week is over, I will need a decision. Sound fair?”

Weimin looked over at his mother to ask what she thought, only to find the question totally unnecessary. She was staring around, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, a smile on her face like he hadn’t seen in a long, long time. “Thank you, Kuvira,” she choked, voice heavy with tears. “We’ll take you up on that offer.”

The next morning, for the first time in his life, Weimin prepared to attend school. He had bad memories of schoolchildren. They were the most common to walk by, all clean with their chins stuck up in the air, and kick dirt, or throw rocks, or spit. They were the ones who came running up with police and a bogus story accusing Weimin of some petty crime. He tried to keep an open mind when he walked out into the large courtyard in the center of the academy’s four buildings, dressed in the finest clothes he could find in his size from the unused. It had only taken one good-looking, laughing group of kids to bring out the scowl on his face.

“Are you new here?” a pretty voice asked. Weimin turned around and saw a girl about his age, her earthy hair fashionably short and her smile matching her voice.

“Um, yeah. I’m here for the week.”

The girl nodded. “I thought so. There are more of us all the time, but newcomers still stand out. It’s scary, huh?”

Weimin could only nod.

“It’s really not so bad. We’ve all been in the same spot, and we try to be nice to everyone.” She blushed. “Unless you’re a jerk.”

“No. I mean, I try not to be.”

“My name’s Zhenzhen. My friends just call me Zhen.” She reached out her hand.

“Weimin.” He took it, and knew his skin was burning.

“Well, let’s find a class you like, huh?” Zhen looked him up and down. “Yeah, I think I know one you’ll like. Follow me.”

Weimin stayed silent as she dragged him along.

Chapter Text

“Why are you so scared?” Pema asked, with a smile equal part amused, concerned, and confused.

Asami crossed her arms angrily. She wasn’t scared. That’s absurd. She wasn’t scared of children, no matter what Korra, her friends, and now Pema said. She was uncomfortable, that’s all. It’s perfectly normal, one of the very basic human natures, to avoid situations that make one uncomfortable. It had nothing to do with being scared.

“I’m not forcing you,” the weary-eyed mother said. “I thought maybe this would be a good idea. Something to distract you from your work for a day. It will be easier than you’re thinking. You’ll have the acolytes around. And it’s just Rohan. One child. You can handle one child.”

With what, a shock from her glove? That’s the only thing Asami could think of offhand.

“Don’t make me play the guilt card.” Pema bowed her head sheepishly. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my husband. We don’t have that many years left and I’d sure love some time alone with him. I love him so much…”

“Okay, okay,” Asami grinned. “You know, Pema, I always forget how manipulative you are. But that’s not why I’m agreeing to this. I just don’t want to hear more about your ‘alone time” with Tenzin.”

Pema smiled and hugged her. “You’re a grown woman. I didn’t think I’d need to explain further.”

Asami didn’t return to the office that afternoon, electing instead to spend those precious hours thinking over activities to keep Rohan occupied. An hour after she sat down on the couch of her penthouse suite, she still stared blankly at the empty notepad before her, entirely bereft of ideas.

It was utterly absurd. Ask her to cobble together a disassembled engine from a Satomobile and she could do so gleefully. Ask her to build a moving vehicle out of scrap metal and clothing and she’d have it done in an hour. Throw her in a room with the richest and most powerful people in the world, and she could smile, swindle, and seduce her way through that room with the ease which Korra could dispatch petty thieves in an alleyway. But throw a child in front of her and suddenly Asami Sato, CEO of Future Industries, a brilliant, socially adjusted problem solver with agile hands and a silver tongue, became a stumbling, blank-headed mess.

Such was the way it had always been with her, for whatever reason. Even when she was a child herself, too tall, too pretty, too smart, looked up to at all times. She’d always had an old mind. When her friends played with imaginary friends, she built real ones of wood and metal. When they ran around causing destruction, she was rebuilding alongside her father. When they threw their school books to the side for the day, she kept her nose in them, and eventually moved on to more advanced texts. The mindless fun of childhood had never really appealed to Asami. She made her own fun through more constructive endeavors.

Pema’s children, unfortunately, had never shared such interests.

Asami stepped off a boat onto Air Temple Island half-an-hour ahead of schedule. She felt a slight pang of disappointment that she was not met with the same enthusiastic whirlwinds that always greeted Korra. Then again, she was not Korra. She had not spent nearly as much time in the air children’s’ presence, or dedicated nearly as much time to making them love her. Not that Korra had to try, either. Korra had a way of making people love her with little effort at all.

Asami shook her head to wipe away her frown. The last thing Pema’s children needed was to watch her old wounds pulse and ache.

Two acolytes led her to the courtyard surrounded by the buildings the airbenders called home. An air bison growled a welcome, and a door banged open in a burst of wind. Ikki was the first outside, her laugh carrying ahead as she sprinted forward. Meelo strutted forward cockily as ever. Jinora was at her father’s right hand, fittingly. Pema followed behind, the rock behind her family as always. Asami had always imagined Korra would be a mother much like her. There was a pure joy about the woman, a deep, loving contentedness in motherhood that Asami deeply admired.

Holding tightly to her right hand was Rohan, cowering behind her skirts with a single amber eye fixed on Asami’s face. A bad start, Asami thought, and her smile fought a great struggle to defeat her frown.

“I am deeply grateful you have agreed to watch my son, Asami,” Tenzin said. His deep voice rumbled soothingly.

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you ever do this for us?” Meelo asked, arms crossed defiantly.

“Um, Korra always did.”

“And you always hang out with Korra.”

“Duh,” Ikki said. “She’s a super busy businesswoman. She probably had too much to do.”

Sorrow tinged the girl’s voice like years of smoke on a ceiling, as if she was trying to convince herself. Asami fought another frown, feeling as if they were mounting a siege against her lips.

“How about I promise each of you a day alone with me, just like Rohan gets today?” Asami bartered. “You too, Jinora. Whatever each of you wants to do, as long as it’s reasonable.”

“You can discuss this later,” Tenzin broke in. Pema nodded at him. “Jinora, you have your instructions.”

“Yes, Daddy.” The eldest of Pema’s children hugged her and Tenzin, waved goodbye to Asami, and made off towards an air bison being loaded by four acolytes for travel.

“Ikki, Meelo, you will accompany your sister to the Eastern Air Temple. You are to listen to your Uncle Bumi’s every instruction, do you understand?”

“Yes, Dad,” Ikki rolled her eyes. “We heard you the first time.”

“Too rarely is one time enough for any of you.”

Meelo saluted, and his sister led him to the bison where Jinora now helped with the last of their luggage. Tenzin sighed and turned towards Pema, who was gently pushing a reluctant Rohan forward.

Showtime. “Hello, Rohan,” Asami said in what she hoped was a sweet voice, and worried was a weird squeak like a grinding gear.

“You know Asami,” Pema whispered soothingly, a balm on the ears, motherhood mastered. “She’s going to spend the day with you.”

Rohan nodded and waved. Asami fought another frown. He hated her already.

Tenzin shook her hand and patted her on the back. Ikki and Meelo shouted goodbye while Jinora led their bison away. Pema hugged her and whispered another thank you, then joined Tenzin within a crowd of acolytes walking towards the dock. Sound seemed to suck from the island all at once, leaving Asami alone and afraid. Yeah, she was scared. She almost shouted it at Pema’s back. With all the conflict and situations she had bravely faced, Asami could allow herself this one weakness.

Tiny feet kicked at the stone. Rohan watched his family go with brave eyes. “Come on, sweetie,” Asami said, reaching out her hand. The boy’s tiny hand was swallowed within her long fingers. “Let’s go find something to do.”

Thankfully, the acolytes made her job much, much simpler. They cooked the meals, set the tables, and knew Rohan’s schedule down to the seconds. Asami’s responsibilities were simple; watch the young airbender and keep him entertained, which proved just as simple. Rohan found plenty of safe ways to entertain himself. He reminded Asami of herself that way.

After lunch and a midday nap, Rohan sat on the floor with a scattered mess of building blocks while Asami kept one eye on him, and the other on her own scattered mess of paperwork and personally sketched designs. Her days off were never true days off. They were more opportunities to review work at her leisure on preferred projects, without assistants and project managers and lawyers leeching away her attention.

Instead, Rohan began to distract her. The one eye watching became two as Asami watched the building blocks gathered into a six by six base. He began stacking the others around him into atop the base, wider in some areas than others. Pillars supported branching wings to the side. Four blocks jutted from the top to replicate a tower.

“What are you building?” Asami asked.

Rohan shrugged. “A building.”

“Impressive.” The boy squinted at her, not understanding. “It’s very good. You like building?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I can’t build what I want, though. The blocks fall over.”

Asami placed the paperwork in her hands back in her briefcase and tucked her glasses in a side pocket of her jacket. “Maybe I can help you. Architecture isn’t my specialty, but I know a thing or two.”

She recognized the problem quickly. Rohan had the right idea, but insufficient materials. A problem routinely driving her to internal screaming and hair pulling in her efforts to rebuild Republic City after Kuvira’s attack. She sat on the floor beside Rohan and tried to help him, but no matter how they stacked the blocks, widened the base, tried to support the branching shapes, but they only reached the same conclusion; they needed more to build with.

“I don’t suppose your brother and sisters have blocks like these we could use?”

Rohan grinned and ran off towards their rooms.

They carried armfuls from unlocked, unused toy chests out to the family room, both of them grinning all the while. Not only did Rohan’s siblings have blocks, but they had thin ones, long ones, wide ones, curved ones. Rohan began eagerly placing them anew while Asami watched. She only offered advice where necessary. It was best he learn to solve the problems which arose himself if possible. Eventually, he had a towering building rising twice his sitting height, and a big smile on his face.

“That’s what I wanted to build,” he said.

Both of them looked around at unused blocks covering the floor, enough for another three buildings like the Rohan had built. Asami smiled at the boy. “It wouldn’t be fair to leave this one all by itself, would it?”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of stacked wood and shared ideas. What started as one equally large building became two smaller ones. Then another became three. They took apart their first and made six buildings arranged like a city. They disassembled and reassembled until the acolytes came to tell them dinner was prepared, their bowed heads worriedly taking in the scene around them.

After dinner, Asami took Rohan outside to burn off the energy of his desert. A warm sunset sparkled off the bay like a thousand diamonds. Asami sat watching the waves lap at the coast while Rohan chased a pair of ring-tailed lemurs around the training grounds. She had spent entire days in this spot or some other after her father’s ties to Amon’s Equalists were exposed. She had sat at Korra’s side, watching her stare sunken-eyed at nothing, lost in the deep shadows swallowing the girl Asami loved. She had also sat there beside Korra in a red dress, finally relieved of the burden she’d carried on her shoulders in all the years before, when they had decided to take their vacation into the Spirit World together. Asami smiled.

A lemur dashed over to her arm and twisted up her jacket to rest atop her head. Rohan’s giggling voice appeared at her ear beside a weak gust of wind. Chubby arms grabbed at her hair, fingers tangling. The lemur jumped from her head and Rohan was off again. Asami grinned, ran her own slender fingers through her hair to straighten it, and stood to follow.

She found Rohan back inside, staring at a rough sketch hanging out of her open briefcase. Their wooden city covered the floor. “What is this?” the boy asked.

Asami tip-toed around the blocks and looked down at her sketch. “That is what I hope Republic City looks like when it is finished being rebuilt. What do you think?”

“I like it.”

“Me, too.”

“I wish I could do this. But I have to be an airbender like Dad.”

Asami smiled and placed a hand on Rohan’s shoulder. “You can still build. The Air Temples can be improved upon. The Northern Air Temple needs to be rebuilt. And you can always build more.”

Rohan frowned. “You think Dad will be okay with that?”

“Of course. He’d be very proud if his son was responsible for building more Air Temples. Very proud.”

The young airbender smiled and looked back down at his blocks. “I like you, Asami. Let’s build something else!”

Asami smiled, and rubbed tears from her eyes before they could smudge her makeup. “Okay.”

Maybe kids weren’t so bad after all.

Chapter Text

The heavy tapping of fingers impatiently smashing a typewriter’s keys echoed through the heavy oak door separating Chief Lin Beifong’s office from the bullpen outside, where her detectives’ desks lined the floor. She shook away the sleep tugging at her eyelids like the metal cables within the spool hanging on the wall behind her. It was well past midnight, and pale moonlight filtered into the room through the dirt-clouded window. Her back hurt something fierce. A whispered promise to never again fall asleep at her desk joined the tapping of the keys.

It was not the first time Lin had made such a promise to herself, and she had no reason to believe she would keep this one. She stood with a groan and shuffled towards the door to find out who else shared her late-night vigil.

She was not surprised to find Mako at his desk. Since making detective he had spent too many nights overworking himself. Eagerness to prove himself was the young firebender’s excuse. Lin suspected the constant and volatile arguments with his new girlfriend played a key role as well. The Avatar had been here earlier, and their raised voices had drawn an audience.

“What are you doing here, Detective?” Lin rasped, her voice not as awake as the rest of her.

“Paperwork, Chief.”

“We don’t have paperwork that urgent.”

“I…um…got behind today and I wanted to catch up.” Mako’s eyes swept around the room. A nervous habit Lin had picked up on. You don’t spend as many years in interrogation rooms as Lin had without the habit forcing itself upon you. “I only have a little bit more, and then I’ll head home.”

“By the time you got home and fell asleep, it would be time to wake up and head back here anyway.” Lin circled around a neighboring desk and turned the chair towards the young man. She plopped heavily in it, her aging bones creaking like rusted metal. “You’re here for the night. Get used to it. It comes with the job, especially when you and the girlfriend aren’t getting along.”

Mako frowned. “Sorry, Chief.”

“Don’t be. You’re not the first detective to sleep under his desk because of the girl or boy waiting at home, and you won’t be the last.” She yanked open the bottom-right drawer of Gen’s desk. The bottle was beneath the flask, as always. She pulled it out and handed it over. “Go ahead, kid.”

The young detective didn’t hesitate. Lin had to snatch the bottle away, spilling some of the liquor onto Mako’s shirt. “You’ve done this before,” she teased.

“No one lives on the streets or gets involved with the people I’ve been involved with without acquiring a taste.” A rough, sloppy cough ripped up his throat. “Though it’s been a while.”

Lin laughed. “So what happened?”

“You…really want to know?”

“I’m not going anywhere either. Might as well waste some time. Just don’t start crying or I’ll smack you upside the head. Cry again and kick you out.”

“Fair enough.” Mako took the bottle back when the chief was done. “It was the usual argument. She wanted an opinion. Apparently I gave the wrong one. I always seem to give the wrong one. Then once we start yelling, we don’t stop. She’ll get over it eventually.”

Lin laughed. She heard her own voice in the one speaking. “I hope you don’t talk that way to the Avatar.”

“Why?”

“Spirits, kid. Good luck to you.”

Mako frowned again, his eyebrows furrowing, but he drank rather than speak. They passed the bottle back and forth, neither saying a word. There were more windows than in Lin’s office, and the moon shone brightly through them, reflecting harshly off the bottle as bright as street lights. Long, restless nights had passed where the moon had kept Lin awake, nights where she eventually gave up on sleep and patrolled the city alone. She had been lucky some of those nights to escape with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. Her mother had insisted she never patrol alone again after Lin showed up with a deep gash covering half her face in a bloody mask. The bright moon beckoned to her soon enough.

“Do you do this often, Chief?” Mako asked. “Spend the night in the office? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Most nights, she would mind if a subordinate asked her about her personal life. She would have glared in that way that sent shivers down spines and threatened to shackle him to a desk if he ever asked again. She was feeling the buzz already, though, loose-limbed and fog-headed and sitting beside someone she knew better than the morons like Lu and Gang. So screw it, she thought.

“Not so much anymore,” she said. “My back can’t take it, and I can’t afford to spend my days sleepwalking because I didn’t get any sleep the night before. I was an old pro once. I know what it’s like to hide from someone in the office. My mom, my sister, Tenzin. Probably why I feel so damn old now.”

“That’s right,” Mako said. “You used to be with Tenzin.”

“Believe me, kid, it didn’t go much better than you and Korra.”

The firebender frowned. Apparently it was his preferred expression, or one he wore so often that his mouth slipped into it like an old uniform. “I hope we end better than you two did.”

Lin grimaced. Here’s where she had to draw the line. She could barely stand to think of those days, let alone talk to someone about them. “Don’t drink too much. I need you functional tomorrow. And if Gen gives you trouble about his liquor, tell him he shouldn’t have it in the first place.”

“Going home, Chief?”

“No. Not much point” She stared out the window, up at the starry sky. For the first time in years, the moon beckoned to her.

###

It was too damn late to be taking a boat to Air Temple Island, but Lin Beifong found herself paddling along all the same. The acolytes had already gathered on the docks to greet her. They had always seemed something inhuman to the earthbender, so tireless and obeying, like bodies carved from rock and controlled through bending. They rarely spoke, they didn’t sleep, they were just…there. All accept the one who had made Tenzin fall in love with her. Lin shook away the bitterness as her boat thudded gently against the pier.

Other boats rocked gently upon the waves, the ropes securing them dark in the night. There were many, more than Lin had seen since Avatar Aang’s death twenty years ago. The way the air hung heavy and still, wrapping the island like a tomb, reminded her of that day as well. All that was missing was a dead Avatar, though to see Korra lately, the only difference between her and a corpse was the rise and fall of her chest.

Not that Lin would say that in front of anyone. Tempers were prickly, to say the least, among the Avatar’s friends and loved ones.

The police chief had cried her own tears over Korra. Unexpected tears, but unavoidable. She’d been there the day a hotheaded young woman in blue had delivered a triple beating to three members of the Triple Threat Triad, and in the years since had faced much together. Korra had restored the metalbender’s bending after Amon’s theft, and Lin had saved her from the Red Lotus at Zaofu. They had fought Zaheer and P’Li together. Maybe they weren’t friends the way Mako or Bolin or Sato were Korra’s friends, but they were something worth Lin spilling tears over what that bastard Zaheer had done.

Lin walked through a sliding screen door and down hallways she still knew like a home despite the long years since she considered it such. She didn’t make it far. Light still spilled through the closed, thin screen that allowed entrance into Korra’s room, and two sleeping figures sat side-by-side outside. Lin had to squint to make out Korra’s parents in the dark, her mother resting her pale, sad face on her husband’s shoulder.

A pair of muffled voices droned within. The chief recognized the louder, calmer of the two. Asami Sato had been a fixture on Air Temple Island since Korra returned, as much as the walls or the acolytes or the airbenders who called it home. The young woman was something of a mystery to Lin. She had been sure Asami Sato had been involved in the Equalist conspiracy with her father. Her suspicions had only grown stronger when she saw was the Future Industries CEO was capable of in a fight. Those suspicions still lingered deep down, though they were no longer so focused as a steel blade, and more in the general shape of a lump of rock lodged deep in her stomach, unyielding.

Every day, that rock eroded, and soon would be gone. No one had taken the Avatar’s injuries worse than Ms. Sato had. However strong she appeared in the long hours at Korra’s side, it was a common sight to see her slumped beside a tree or staring out at the bay with tears in her eyes. Yet when it came time to face Korra, she was pure strength, an unbending steel that stood strong against the overwhelming force of her friend’s depression.

A laugh burst from the room, and Lin dared not risk stealing that moment of joy. She turned and made her way back outside. When she turned after stepping outside and closing the door, she bumped into Detective Mako, who was walking along with his head down, mumbling beneath his breath.

“Sorry, Chief,” he said, peeking nervously from beneath his half-closed eyelids.

“Lift your head, kid,” Lin said. “You lived here, you know there are too many people around to walk blindly.” She watched, amused, as Mako straightened his spine, cleared his throat, ran his fingers through his midnight hair, and clasped his hands behind him. It reminded her of Suyin in the lobby outside their mother’s office, combing her hair and pressing her palms over her clothing in vain attempt to look presentable before she faced the consequences of whatever she had done wrong that particular time.

Lin’s hand scratched reflexively at the scars on her cheek. That had been the one time Su did nothing to make herself presentable. Like her sister, she had sat there quietly, hoping for the best and fearing the worst.

“You look beat, detective. I told you not to stay late tonight. You can’t just jump back into the job like you never left.”

“But we were really close to a break in the-”

“I don’t want to hear it. I need the entire department at their best in the coming weeks. Once news of Avatar Korra’s…injuries hits the streets, the Triads, the Gold Slips, and every other scumbag she scared into hiding will think they can poke their heads out of their holes. I need every club ready to whack them.”

“I know.” Mako clenched and unclenched his fists. “I’m just worried about her.”

Lin had seen that worry firsthand. If she had her way, Mako wouldn’t have set foot within headquarters for another two weeks, at least, but as usual she wasn’t allowed her way. Life had a habit of refusing Lin Beifong since the day she was born.

“Tenzin let me spend the night. I was hoping to see her. Even if she isn’t awake, I just want to see that she’s okay.”

“She’s fine. Ms. Sato is in there with her, and I actually heard Korra laugh.” A strange, nearly forgotten sound.

Mako frowned, jealous. He noticed it, too, Lin was sure. However ineffective Mako could be at reading his friends, he was still a damn fine detective with admirable intuition, and Asami was as open a book as a person could read. Korra didn’t seem to notice yet, but that couldn’t possibly last.

Lin frowned as well. She knew what it felt like to stand in Mako’s shoes, in this specific place, and watch someone she loved suffer. She knew how it felt to want to offer comfort and know that the person you love wanted someone else. It had rained that day, and all during the night. Lin had stood in the hallway outside Tenzin’s room, soaked through and dripping all over the floor. Thank you, Pema, he had whispered between sobs.

“Come on, Detective,” she said gesturing for him to follow. “Since you stayed late to break open a case, best you fill me in.”

The firebender nodded, and the worried creases lining his face smoothed, leaving it young again. He was a good looking kid. The Avatar could have done much worse, and probably would. Unless Ms. Sato wasn’t the only one harboring a secret crush.

“Hey, Chief?” Mako said.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Lin crossed her arms. “Not necessary. Now tell me what’s happening.”

###

There was no mistaking it. Police Chief Lin Beifong was well and truly drunk.

Thankfully, it wasn’t the type of drunk she was accustomed to. Slouched in her chair, empty bottles tipped over on her desk, trying desperately to drown the memory of a murdered family or the nightmares which made the scars on her cheek itch madly. No, she was a much better drunk right now. She was a happy drunk as unfamiliar as the rich green cotton her sister had insisted she wear to the wedding. Both fit well. Both were something she would consider doing again.

Air Temple Island had emptied considerably in the past hour. Music still played somewhere, though it no longer came from a band. Half the candles had flickered out. Pema carried a sleeping Rohan in her arms. She’d finally tracked him down, it seemed. The jelly smeared around his mouth rubbed off onto his weary-eyed mother’s shoulder. When she looked Lin’s way, she managed a polite smile. It was all the metalbender could do not to laugh.

Lin staggered carefully towards the rush of water, probing ahead carefully to make sure she didn’t step off the ledge. Once she found it, she plopped heavily to the ground, which only made the world swim all the worse. She closed her eyes and shut out everything but the waves lapping at the rock below.

Today had been a good day. Life was good. It was still hard to grasp all the change which had rushed Lin in so short a time, like a hotheaded firebender setting the world ablaze. It wasn’t quite what she had dreamed of as a girl, but it was as close as anyone could hope to get. She had a family again. Her job was secure, and her city looking at a period of deserved peace. She had made a certain peace with her mother. The Avatar was back. All that was missing was Tenzin, and she had made her peace with that.

A cool breeze began to chase away the fog in her head. Lin wasn’t ready to come down yet, so she took another swig from the wine bottle in her hand. Good stuff. Varrick may be a selfish whack job, but he knew how to be rich, and how to show it off to everyone around him. Though it was just as likely that Zhu Li had picked the wine and everything else. That was a woman with a strong head on her shoulders. Lin was as surprised as anyone to find she was truly happy for them. She wondered how much of that could be attributed to the wine. It was damn good.

Someone cleared their throat and tiptoed over. Lin blinked as she looked up, and found Mako standing over her. Unruly hairs lay plastered across his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed. The kid had put away a bit of wine as well.

“Hey, Chief,” he slurred. “Good night, huh?”

Lin nodded. “You look like you enjoyed yourself.”

Mako smiled sloppily and collapsed beside her. “I had fun. I was hoping to have some more, but Bo…” he hiccupped. “Bolin left with Opal and I don’t know where…where Korra is. So I just wandered around.”

“Korra left with Asami hours ago,” Lin said. She’d been less drunk then, the skills she had learned throughout her career still operating at close maximum capacity. The two young women had tried to sneak away, but she had seen them.

The young detective chuckled. “About time. All the gooey-eyed looks they gave each other was starting to make me sick.”

Lin chuckled as well, and nearly tipped over. “So, you’re alright?”

“I’m good. I’m over it. I love them both, and they deserve each other. Asami’s been alone too long, and Korra needs someone to ground her. I’m really, really happy that they finally said something to each other.” He tapped a finger anxiously against his thigh. “You wouldn’t happen to know who said it, would you?”

“No. The pool goes on.”

Mako cursed.

At some point, the music had stopped. Lights began to fade in the surrounding buildings, leaving only the ever-present glow of the spirit portal among the wreckage of Republic City. The sight still took Lin’s breath away. It was hard to imagine anyone, even an Avatar, having the power to create something like that.

“Korra has a girl, your brother has my niece, even Varrick got hitched.” Lin’s voice was teasing. “When are you going to find someone, kid?”

“The job doesn’t give me much opportunity.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“It’s not?” Mako glared accusingly. One of his ridiculous eyebrows arched upwards. “What’s yours then?”

Screw it, Lin thought. I’m drunk. “I don’t have one. I’m a bitter old woman who loved once and took too long to get over it. You don’t have to let the same thing happen. You’re young, you’re good looking, and you’re a damn good person. One of the best in this city. Don’t lose yourself to the job like I did.”

“Thanks, Chief.” Mako smiled nervously. “You know, you’re…um…not exactly bad looking yourself. Sorry if that’s out of line.”

Lin scoffed. “I’m old, Detective. Old and sour and scarred. And I hate suck-ups.”

“When have I ever sucked up to anyone, Chief? You still look good.”

Lin felt her cheeks blush, and realized it wasn’t just the wine. “Looks like everyone else cleared out. Guess we should do the same. Want to share a boat back to the city?”

“Sure.” Mako stood on shaky legs, and helped Lin up. “Not sure I want to go home yet. Drinks on me?”

Lin smirked. “Drinks on you.”