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When Noatak lifted the mask to his face, everything changed. No longer was he Noatak of the North, bloodbender, keeper of his brother and the Avatar. Noatak no longer existed, his very being turned into Amon, as solid as the man behind the mask with the calculation and bearings of Spirits.
Lying in a heap on the bed, Korra turned her face into the curve of Tarrlok’s neck, hiding her eyes from the sight, while Tarrlok lifted an arm to cover his own.
Every time Noatak put that mask on, Tarrlok and Korra’s hearts shattered a little more.
Amon didn’t spare Noatak’s lovers even a glance; he merely adjusted his topcoat with a jerk and strode out of the room with a powerful stride.
Even without Amon in the bedroom any longer, the air in the room seemed chilly. It was as if he sucked out all the warmth, turning the atmosphere as dry and frigid as Amon himself.
Tarrlok wondered if his breath would steam, just like the old days.
Korra’s left hand was bruising Tarrlok’s ribs where it clenched out of sight. It was her only other sign of outward distress, everything else in her posture screamed casual against him.
Lifting his arm, Tarrlok ran his hand down her bare spine, and then left it resting upon her. Against his skin, he felt Korra’s lips twitch upwards gratefully. He knew how she felt – the lingering warmth was appreciated at times like this.
And then, his fingers pressed in once, twice.
They didn’t slump, or relax. But there was more ease, knowing that Tarrlok couldn’t feel his brother.
They didn’t say a word out loud. They never did, when it was just the two of them. It was too risky to vocalize anything. But as time stretched on, Korra’s mouth would move silently casting ideas. Tarrlok would run it through his head, fit it at every angle he knew how – and his fingers would press, oh so gently, to confirm, build on or deny.
Staying was not an option.
They had long ago ruled out suicide. There was too much surveillance, and Noatak would be able to heal anything that slipped passed his Equalists, even if he had to bloodbend their hearts into beating.
Noatak would not be stopped by words alone, and they did not have the power to force him. That idea died a very swift death the day he captured and equalized them in the Mountains.
They had to acknowledge killing him as a reality, but in the end, the only option, poison, would be a foolish choice – not only would they have no means, but Noatak would merely stop it.
The hardest part, Tarrlok had figured, was that there was no dying to ‘escape or die trying’ – the only option was a clean escape, which bordered on impossible. And the moment they failed would be the last time they would be able to even partially plan ahead of Noatak’s brilliance. Hope was scarce. Regardless, the need was great, and so they planned.
And today, Tarrlok could feel Korra breathing in, preparing for an idea that might actually have merit rather than rote suggestions.
It took her two tries before Tarrlok comprehended what she said. When he did, he very carefully didn’t react as his brain worked fiercely.
Airbending. Korra had mouthed.
He was shocked. Korra had discovered could still bend. While Tarrlok had wondered, a few days ago when she’d been especially fidgety what the matter was, he never would have thought that the cause would be the discovery of her ability to bend.
This changed everything.
Breathing out, he aimlessly traced up and down her back in thought.
The mere action made him think, and it was a great and terrible idea. Piecing together things he knew Tenzin could do, Tarrlok did what he did best, and planned.
—
For weeks, they deliberated. Having only one shot at an escape, everything had to be carefully conveyed to the tiniest detail.
When the time came, Korra was merciless, ripping the air out of the lungs of the Equalists guarding the door. They left them where they were, unconscious or dead. Checking would take too much time, and they had to be quick.
Sometimes, when large groups of Equalists ambushed them, Korra blew them away to clear the way, and then stole their air.
The sight would haunt them, but it needed to be done.
It took far less time than they thought to escape. First the compound, then the city – but stumbling on the Equalist dock, with several speedboats was to their advantage.
Spying the electro-gloves, Tarrlok set up to blow up the surrounding boats while Korra dealt with the engine. Then, with explosions behind them, they were speeding away – freedom, a new chance.
—
Even surrounded as he was by Equalists, Amon found the air of the compound frigid, just like the poles.
The part that was still Noatak would have shed a tear.
Amon had no such feelings.