Chapter Text
Korra pulls the hood of her jacket up over her head, adjusting it until she feels her features are adequately obscured. Unless anyone starts looking at her too closely, she should pass as any other unremarkable citizen of Republic City.
Once outside, she wraps her arms around herself, knowing the posture is noticeably defensive, but unable to help herself. The day isn’t cold, but her insides feel like ice, like she’ll never be warm again.
The streets are bustling, most of the people heading in the same direction she is, to the rally. Many of the people seem content, chattering to one another as they walk. Non-benders, born that way, with no reason to be upset. For them, today is a day like any other.
But there are others in the crowd like Korra, seemingly walking without purpose, their eyes dull and their mouths set in thin, firm lines. Korra wants to recoil from the sight of them, run back to Air Temple Island and hide under her covers, pretending like everything that has happened has been nothing but a nightmare.
She falters, for a second, her body feeling physically torn over her indecision. Steeling her resolve, Korra presses on. Even if she’s no longer able to bend, no longer the Avatar, she still feels bound by duty to serve these people.
The street in front of City Hall is teeming with people. Korra stands off to the side, staring up at the top of the steps. Tenzin is there already, with Tarrlok and the other Council members. Along the stairs are at least three dozen chi-blockers acting as guards, making sure the crowd doesn’t come too close.
And then Amon strides outside the massive front doors of City Hall, straight backed and confident, coming to a halt in front of the microphone stand at the center of the stairs and assuming his usual posture. Most of the crowd erupts in cheers at the sight of him, but there are pockets of onlookers staring on in a silence that resonates with desperation.
“Republic City,” Amon says, and the crowd quiets, most of them eager to hang on to his every word. “As you know, the oppressive rule of the benders has been ended.”
There is more cheering, and Amon waits until it quiets down again to continue his speech.
“Our work is not yet done, however. Though benders can never terrorize those weaker than them ever again, inequality persists throughout this city. As the new Head of State, I fully intend to lead Republic City into a glorious new era of Equality for all.”
Again, the Equalist supporters in the crowd cheer. Korra notices the Council members sharing wary glances over this new announcement.
“By the mercy of the Spirits I was lead to stage a bloodless coup over the leadership of this city,” Amon continues. “Though there may be bad blood between the Equalists and many of Republic City’s other citizens, I want to move today to put those to rest, and I believe there is no better place to start than between myself and the leaders this city has come to already know. Therefore I extend the invitation to the previous Council Members to resume their positions.”
Even from her position far back in the crowd, Korra can see the looks of shock that pass over the Council members’ faces. Many people in the crowd are murmuring.
“In addition to keeping experienced individuals on the Council, I am expanding the number of positions, so that more points of view may be heard. I have nominated my second and third in command to assume positions on the Council, and they have graciously accepted.”
Amon’s Lieutenant and a woman dressed in an Equalist uniform that Korra doesn’t recognize both step forward. There are cheers again, the Equalists in the crowd mollified.
“I would also like to invite former Avatar Korra to assume a place on the Council.”
Korra feels her blood run cold at the mere mention of her name, and it takes a moment for the rest of the words, and their meaning, to catch up with her racing mind. The crowd is humming with restless tension, even the Council members seem nervous.
“I understand that there will be many who disagree with this decision, but the offer stands. Though no longer the Avatar, I believe that Korra will continue to work to maintain balance in the world, a feat that I believe would be best begun if she and I were to make peace.”
Korra can’t be sure, but she can’t shake the feeling that Amon is looking right at her, eyes burning a hole through her disguise.
Amon continues his speech though, and when Korra doesn’t burst into flames, she lets out a breath she didn’t realize that she had been holding. “It is my sincere belief that the great events that have transpired in recent days, and their consequences, will encourage us all to move forward, rather than lead us to move back. Be assured, that by working together, we will reach the greatest good for the greatest number.
“I make my respectful acknowledgement to those here who were benders, or strong supporters of benders and the patience with which they have listened to some observations to which they may not possibly agree. I understand your fears, your misgivings, but it is time to put those behind you and join in creating a city that is equal for all. With your support, we shall overwhelm inequality--but we must have that support.
“In the coming days, I will be working with the other Council Members to forge new laws that will make it easier to eradicate organized crime, that will lift the less fortunate from the grips of poverty, and that will increase the availability of education to this great city’s people.
“The great goal of Equality will not be killed. It is a quickening spirit--it is immortal. With Equality as our vision, let us build wisely, let us build surely, let us build faithfully, let us build not for the moment, but for the years that are to come, and so establish here a place where there shall be room for all.”
Amon nods to the crowd, his speech finished and a deafening roar of cheers sweeps through the streets. Korra feels it more than she hears it, as surely as she had once been able to feel a wave of water bend to her command. Here, however, she feels powerless against its current, as it tugs her back and forth between her warring emotions.
Again, she feels Amon’s eyes find her in the crowd, and she’s sure she’ll drown in this sea of people, like being gripped by an undertow too strong to resist.
Only when Amon turns and heads back into City Hall can Korra find the strength to breathe again. The crowd around her starts dispersing, the Equalists talking animatedly and excitedly. Even some of the people who had come to the rally looking pale and listless seem to have been slightly soothed.
Korra has to admit, Amon is a very gifted speaker. She rolls the thought of joining the reformed Council around in her head.
All her mind’s eye can conjure up, though, is her final showdown against Amon, how he had held her up on those same steps so easily, ripping her bending from her in front of the entire city. The thought of being in the same room as him without beating his skull in, pretending the play nice with the city’s new ruler because what other choice would she have, makes her sick to her stomach.
She still has nightmares about it, of her limbs moving so sluggishly against his absurd strength, that awful feeling of having a part of her forcibly severed beneath his strangely gentle hands.
Korra sways on the spot, feeling woozy at the remembrance of that sensation.
Steadying herself, Korra turns away from the now empty street, feet taking her back to Air Temple Island.
Meanwhile, within City Hall, Amon surveys his new office. His Lieutenant and his third in command are setting up their own offices and Amon lets himself enjoy this rare moment of solitude. He feels his speech had gone over well, and it is his hope that it had done enough to quell most of the fears people have of him assuming leadership over the city. After all, it won’t do to begin with half the city despising him.
He thinks of Korra, standing in the crowd, staring up at him with mixed shock and fury and he smiles. Had she honestly thought that she would be invisible to him in that sea of people? Bending blood gives one a rather intimate knowledge of their victim. If he were blind he would know her.
There’s a knock at his door, and Amon sighs, his moment of quiet whisked away all too soon.
“What is it?” he calls.
Tarrlok lets himself in and he quickly shuts the door behind him. “What are you playing at?” his brother demands.
Amon feels the beginnings of a headache coming on. “Whatever do you mean?”
“A Council where seventy-five percent of the members would murder you in your sleep if given half the chance? Are you mad?”
“Taking into account Korra accepting the position and Cheng and Nuan both being unlikely to desire my demise, seventy-five percent means that you want to murder me in my sleep. If that’s a confession, you understand why I’ll have to have you arrested.”
The face Tarrlok makes reminds Amon very strongly and poignantly of their childhood. “That’s not what I meant, brother,” Tarrlok says.
“Don’t call me that,” Amon snaps. “I’ve worked hard to cultivate this image and if I think that you can’t stay your tongue, I’ll find someone else to fill your position.”
Tarrlok sighs. “Alright, alright. What do you want to be called? I must say, if it’s Fearless Leader or something along those lines, please replace me now.”
Amon snorts. “Amon will do just fine. Fearless Leader will also be acceptable.”
Tarrlok smiles, but if fades quickly and an awkward silence stretches between the two brothers. “Why would you invite Korra to be on the Council?” Tarrlok asks, which Amon would guess to be the entire reason Tarrlok has confronted him now. “You must realize she’ll refuse you.:
Amon considers this for a moment. “I must disagree with you on that one. Perhaps if I had asked her in private, she would have said no, but she clearly doesn’t have much of a choice with this one. Former benders still have faith in her, and she’ll step up to represent them. And when they see her assimilating to the new order, they’ll realize that there will be no going back to the way things were.”
“That’s low,” says Tarrlok, and his disapproving tone grates at Amon’s nerves. He hardly needs his little brother judging his tactics.
“That’s politics,” Amon says defensively. “And no worse than anything you’ve done concerning her. I give her a week at most.”
“You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Tarrlok says, pressing on, ignoring the barb and the vicious mood rising in his older brother. “She resents you already.”
“And what would you do? Let her fade away into obscurity?”
“I think that would be the kinder thing to do, honestly,” Tarrlok admits.
“Again, I disagree. Protecting someone from feeling shame isn’t necessarily the kind thing to do, and I certainly think it isn’t the healthy thing to do.”
“Oh,” Tarrlok says sarcastically, “so now you have Korra’s best interests at heart?”
Amon rounds on his brother, anger rising when Tarrlok doesn’t even have the decency to act afraid of him. “I have the best intentions of this entire city at heart, and that includes her.”
“Oh yes, thank you for reminding me that now she’s worthy of caring about since you, what, rid her of her impurities? You are such a fucking hypocrite,” Tarrlok says, disdain dripping from his voice.
“Fuck you,” Amon snarls.
“What?” Tarrlok says, feigning surprise. “No snappy comeback? Or do you realize the shit you’re spouting won’t hold water?”
“You think I like being a bender?” Amon hisses. “I despise myself for it. It is a necessary evil that I suffer--”
“You think your followers would see it that way?” Tarrlok interrupts.
Amon stares at his brother for a long moment, wondering if Tarrlok is serious. “Don’t make me hurt you, Tarrlok,” he warns.
They both glare at each other for a long, tense moment, but Tarrlok finally backs down, dropping his eyes first in defeat. “You’re doing more harm than good, forcing Korra into this. She’s still so young.”
“She’s hardly a child anymore,” Amon argues, but his tone holds no bite in it.
Tarrlok crosses his arms over his chest, looking thoughtful. “I think she’s more of a child still than you realize. Just because you grew up fast, by necessity, does not mean that Korra can muster the grace of fortitude to accept what you’re offering. And believe me, it would take superhuman effort on her part to get over what you’ve done enough to be in the same room as you.”
Amon sits heavily in his chair. He’s exhausted, and this talk with Tarrlok is not helping that.
“Perhaps you’re right. But I can’t let her say no to this. What would you do?”
Tarrlok sighs. “You’re right in thinking that she’ll take you up on your offer, I think. At least, eventually. Just don’t push it. You’ve put yourself out there. Anything less than letting Korra reconcile with the idea herself is going to ruin it. You’re going to have to stay hands off, in regards to her.”
Amon groans in frustration.
“Oh, come on,” Tarrlok says. “It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be. I mean, how long have you waited for this day? Waiting for Korra to come around will be like a drop in a bucket in comparison.”
“Well,” Amon says, mostly musing to himself, “maybe just waiting for her to join the Council.” He frowns, sitting back in his chair.
A strange look passes over Tarrlok’s face. “I’m sorry, what?” he asks incredulously.
“What?” Amon asks, on the defensive. He’s exceedingly glad for his mask as he feels heat creep up his neck and settle in his cheeks. He hadn’t exactly meant to let that slip.
“Just for her to join the Council? As opposed to what?”
“Nothing,” Amon says, a little too quickly.
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” Tarrlok tells him.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Amon counters.
“Don’t say things that draw arrows to conclusions! If you’re not planning something else, please correct me!”
Another awkward silence falls between them. Then, Tarrlok bursts into raucous laughter.
“Shut up,” Amon says bitterly. “It’s not funny; this is a very serious predicament I’m in.”
“You’re going to try to… what? Seduce the Avatar?” Tarrlok gasps in between peals of laughter.
Amon has always prided himself on avoiding unnecessary bloodshed, but right now he is severely tempted. “She’s not the Avatar anymore,” he snaps. “And yes, that is the plan. Eventually.”
Tarrlok only laughs harder. “Oh Tui and La what on earth would you do? Write her a poem? Oh, oh, let me guess, fire lilies are red, sea prunes are blue, I stole your bending and took over the city for you?”
Amon scowls. “I might actually kill you.”
Tarrlok keeps laughing, but he finally stops long enough to ask somewhat seriously, “So, what is your plan, Fearless Leader?”
“I haven’t actually thought that far yet,” Amon admits, ignoring his brother’s jibes. “Taking the city was my first priority.”
“Surely you must have some idea,” Tarrlok presses.
“None.”
Tarrlok gives him an assessing look. “You have some experience with women, right? Scheduled a few dates between Equalist rallies? Held hands with a girl while plotting terroristic attacks?”
Amon clenches his fist. “I’m not some blushing virgin, you idiot. And though I may have had sex before, I’ll tell you one thing I have never done: committed fratricide. And let me tell you, I am honestly not sure how long I’ll be able to continue saying that.”
“Okay, okay. Clearly, you are in desperate need of my assistance. Lucky for you, I’ve been voted Republic City’s most eligible bachelor nine years running. I have quite a lot of experience with this sort of thing. We’ll land you an Avatar yet.”