Chapter Text
Overlooked at birth
We rise beyond our stations
On the lotus stem.
-Kuruk Song, excerpt from Seeds of the Blue Lotus
"Nngh," Korra groused as the clicking of hairpins greeted her awakening. "How're you even alive?"
"Unlike certain Water Tribeswomen, I actually like waking up before sunset," Asami teased, half-turning. Hairpins glinted in the morning light invading Korra's room. Inserting the final hairpin, she turned fully to face Korra, smile playing over impeccably pink-stained lips. "If you get up, I'll give you a kiss."
Tempting, but the blankets—silk sheets taken from Asami's place—were whispering sweet nothings on brown skin. "Nngh," Korra repeated, stuffing her head beneath her pillow. Yeah, that was it. A nice, cool pillow to shield her from the evil, evil sun.
Pillow-muffled steps approached and a warm weight settled itself at Korra's side. "C'mon," Asami crooned. "I'll help you give Naga a bath."
Hmm. Naga had been getting dirty with only Rohan, Meelo, and occasionally Ikki to clean her. Poor Pema never had time. Extra hands would make it—not easier, exactly, given Korra's ability to make a hose wherever she damn well pleased, but certainly more fun. And Asami was bound to know how to get stains out of Naga's saddle better than Korra did. She shifted the pillow back an inch, letting her face poke out from safety.
Ink-black hair fell down in a satiny sheet past Korra's face. The scent of jasmine perfumed the air. "Kor-ra," Asami sing-songed. "Don't you want to get anything done today?"
Struggling up from her self-made prison and narrowly avoiding clocking Asami in the jaw, Korra grinned. "I'd sure like to kiss my girlfriend." So saying, she dropped a kiss on Asami's cheek.
"Mmm," Asami murmured, returning the affection on the tip of Korra's nose. "You're getting better at this. First time you kissed me, my lips were bruised."
Korra's grin spread as she pulled back. "I remember. Still not sorry for that, by the way. You were so flustered, it was like watching a lemming-owl chick trying to fly."
Asami rolled her eyes, returning to her mirror to let Korra get up properly. "So were you, as I recall," she called over her shoulder. "Either way, that was a perfectly tasteful kiss. I've taught you well."
Korra laughed as she set about getting dressed. Yeah, she'd had the best teacher in the world.
"Petitions?" Asami frowned over a bowl of miso soup. Korra, her mouth full of leek, made an incomprehensible noise of agreement.
"Indeed," Tenzin said. "Now that the reparations from Kuvira's invasion are steadying, the White Lotus has informed me that traditionally people are allowed to submit requests to the Avatar. Through the White Lotus, naturally," he added when Korra and Asami adopted matching frowns. "Not just any little thing is worth making a formal petition for."
"Yeah!" Meelo cheered. "The Avatar doesn't have time for your petty concerns," he said in the most dramatic, haughty tone his prepubescent voice could manage. Which was to say a little bit squeakier than his normal voice.
"Meelo!" Pema scolded. "Korra's very helpful. We wouldn't be sitting here without her. You apolo- Rohan, no!" She dove to catch the youngest of Tenzin's children, who'd somehow managed to get on the table and had just decided he wanted off, gravity and dishes be damned.
Korra swallowed her mouthful. "You were saying, Tenzin?"
The airbender sniffed, stroking his beard as though it was styled any differently from five seconds ago. "Thank you. While I'm loath to shackle you to tradition for the sake of tradition—yes, really; I keep to it as I think necessary," he said to the table of raised eyebrows. "While I'm loath to do that, it's something positive for people to focus on as we all work towards repairing the world Kuvira threw into chaos."
"And I can't just help people on my own?" Korra asked, shifting position so she didn't knock over a bowl. Not because she cared about the bowl, but because it'd probably spill on Asami, and that'd mean losing the brownie points the morning's kiss had earned her. "Happen upon kittens in trees and stuff?"
Tenzin's already-lined face creased. "That's not what I'm saying, Korra. I just-"
"-I think I get it," Asami interrupted, soothing away the breezes that had sprung up with her polished smile. "It's PR stuff, right? Future Industries had to do a lot of that after what my father did. Everyone's recovering from Kuvira's attack. And with order still being restored, it makes sense to establish the Avatar as someone who's relevant and constant even in the face of all the industry springing up. Not," she assured Korra with a hand on the shoulder, "that people think you're irrelevant. It's just emphasis. And besides, what else were you going to do with your time?"
"I, uh-" Korra floundered. She hadn't thought about it that much. The future wasn't that important when you needed your head in the present so it didn't get blown off. "Spend time with you?" She sent a hopeful smile Asami's way.
Asami lifted an elegant brow. "Even when I'm burning the midnight oil on a new prototype? As brilliant as you are, I don't think you'd stay awake for very long."
Korra blushed. Okay, so she wasn't exactly great at all that mechanical stuff. That was Asami's shtick. "Fine. I could go to school! They've got schools for people my age here, right? I could learn how to play the tsungi horn, or train some airbenders, or, or..." She trailed off. Go to school? It'd be almost as bad as airbending training, except there'd be no bending. And besides, she'd been everywhere. Who needed to learn geography when they'd seen another world? Play the tsungi horn? Maybe it was a lingering memory from Aang, but Korra had the feeling she'd hate it. Training airbenders? Been there, done that, and Jinora, Kai, and (at the moment) Ikki had that covered.
"That was my second thought," Tenzin broke in. "You need a life outside of the regrettably common conflicts you've faced. Perhaps by talking with these people you'll find something that captures your interest."
"...fine," Korra grumbled. "I'll try one out. See if I like it. But if I don't, I'm going to find something to do myself, and you don't get to complain."
Tenzin's face unfolded, apparently deciding that this was the best result he could've expected. "Of course. Now, I've already received several requests. If you'd pick one to get started with..."
"Her bending?" Korra said. "It's been what, almost five years? The heck was she doing the whole time?"
She and Tenzin were climbing the steps to the training area, feet wearing away the smooth limestone slabs the same way monks' feet had worn away the Air Temples' steps for centuries. That was probably the point, Korra reflected. There were plenty of materials that weren't so easily shaped, but Tenzin had wanted something as impermanent as the breezes that rustled the bamboo around them.
Tenzin's shoulders rose and fell; like Asami, he was too dignified to merely shrug. "I believe the White Lotus said she was a native of Zaofu. Perhaps she'd returned there after Amon took her bending; there is a place, however limited, in that city for non-benders. If she was caught up in the chaos after that, it would not surprise me if she has had a difficult enough time learning of your ability to restore bending, let alone traveling here."
Korra snorted. "Still. Anyway, if they checked her out, why're there sentries? I thought you didn't want White Lotus up here."
Tenzin sighed gustily, casting a resigned glance over to the pair of helmeted women tromping up the stairs behind them. "I don't, but they insisted upon being there in case they'd missed some dangerous element. I chose the ones least likely to break anything."
"If Lanfen Song has managed to conceal any weapons from us, she won't get a chance to use it," one of the sentries, a thick-bodied woman with graying hair peeking out from beneath her helmet, said, next step heavy as if to punctuate her determination. "Who knows what they've devised in Zaofu?"
"Su's not an enemy," Korra snapped, stone ringing through her bones as she took a heavy step of her own. Not now, she told herself. Tenzin'd kill you for wrecking his stupid steps. "She wouldn't send someone to try and kill me."
The woman shrugged. "Maybe not, but I'm not going to overestimate Zaofu's ability to find every dissenter within it. Or even to punish them if they do."
As the sentry was speaking, they came to the top of the steps. Korra would've spared a moment to appreciate the peaceful, minimalist design of the training area, but she'd spent way too much time here failing to be the leaf to feel at all calm here. Instead, she made her way over to the meditation pavilion, a no less irritating place. Prettier, definitely, but meditation here'd been a snoozefest, sometimes literally. Even having gotten better at it, the pavilion put her to sleep.
A girl knelt in the middle of the pavilion, head bowed. Black hair pulled back in a braid did nothing to hide thin lips twitching as if their owner was restraining a smile. Korra'd seen plenty of people overjoyed to receive their bending back, but there was something weird about the girl's smile, like it was mischievous instead of happy. And shouldn't someone who'd had their bending missing for nearly five years be a little more emotional?
Or maybe, she thought as the four approached and the girl glanced up, the ex-bender had been living without it for so long that she was more relieved than anything. The huge, Bolin-esque grin that broke out across the bronze-skinned face certainly looked pretty happy.
"Avatar Korra!" She all but jumped to her feet, bowing as deeply as any of the Fire Nation nobles Korra'd met. "It's an honor. Truly, an honor. I'll never forget this"
Korra came to a halt out of vaguely-creepy-fangirl range. "Uh, yeah, thanks," she replied, looking Lanfen over. For being across the world for so long, she'd certainly adapted to Republic City trends quickly, clad in a red tunic, loose indigo jacket, olive pants, and a yellow sash. "Lanfen, uh, Song, right? Nice to meet you. I think."
Lanfen didn't seem to notice, though Tenzin's huff of disapproval said he had. "Yes, that's me." She shifted from foot to foot, eyes lit up like her birthday had come early. "Could you, ah...?"
"Ready to go, huh?" Korra said, closing the distance. Spirits, for someone who looked about Korra's own age, Lanfen was acting like a little kid. "Five seconds won't kill you."
Still, Korra closed the gap between them dutifully. Yeah, she wasn't doing this whole petition thing if this was the kind of job the White Lotus had in mind for her. Not that people getting their bending back was meaningless, but no way did the White Lotus need to be approving something Korra'd done dozens of times before. Lanfen dropped to her knees, like she'd seen it a thousand times before and knew what to do. Made Korra's life easier.
"Earthbender?" Korra guessed, automatically raising her hands to Lanfen's throat and forehead.
Beneath her hands, the Zaofu native hesitated, nodding after a second. "My grandmother was Foggy Swamp, but otherwise, yes."
Something about that rang wrong in Korra's ears. Except there wasn't really anything to sound wrong, so that didn't make any sense. Well, didn't matter. Even if she hadn't been the Avatar, Tenzin and the White Lotus were here. More than enough to stop it if Lanfen tried anything.
Time to get on with it. The day wasn't getting any longer.
Korra-alone exhaled air. Korra-and-Raava inhaled power.
Together, they reached for Lanfen Song's soul.
The first inkling Korra-and-Raava had that something was wrong was when Lanfen's soul began to reach back. It was supposed to, like the spirits of everyone whose bending they had restored. Lin, Tahno, the metalbender officers, their chi had reached for hers, strong and tinged with their element. Lanfen's soul reached, stretched so thin that Korra-and-Raava saw her energy fade into near-transparency. The mineral tang of stone was nowhere to be found, as though it too had faded.
Korra-and-Raava shared a conscious thought that something might be wrong when, instead of opening up immediately to connect Korra-and-Raava's and Lanfen's chi, the chi paths had to be forced open. They felt almost dusty, closed up and shriveled. It was difficult to imagine energy ever flowing through them.
When the white light beaming from Lanfen's eyes, like that in Korra's own, guttered like a candle in wind, Korra-and-Raava knew something had gone wrong.
And when Lanfen broke the connection, back arching as she fell back, convulsing, Korra was the first to drop to her knees beside her, glowing water wrapped around her hands, and she knew why it had gone wrong.
Lanfen Song wasn't an earthbender, and she never had been.