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Summary: Jinora goes into the city one night looking for adventure. She runs into an old friend and finds a different kind of adventure.
Notes: Jinoochy, which you don't get often here. But it's good, this one.
Excerpt:
Tugging on a dull grey coat and securing a scarf around her forehead, Jinora felt guilt creep into her chest. She had worked so hard to earn her tattoos, and she was proud of her heritage; it was just that the bright orange robes and bright blue arrows made it hard for Jinora to go out in public without being recognized.
Looking out her window, Jinora could see the lights of Republic City announcing that the city's nightlife was just beginning. Jinora felt her heart swell with anticipation. Now seventeen, the call of the bustling city was too much for her to resist. She took a deep breath and jumped out her window.
Of course, the six-story drop was nothing for an airbending master. She made no sound as her feet touched the ground and ghosted across the training area. Since Korra had become a fully realized Avatar, the White Lotus centuries had long since left the island, which made sneaking out much easier. When most of the lights on Air Temple Island turned off, it seemed the lights of the city glowed even brighter. As she approached the high cliff overlooking Yue Bay, Jinora's gloved hands clutched her glider tighter. Just a little further, she thought. She sprinted the last few steps before jumping straight out into the open air. Her glider snicked open and with a push of air, Jinora was soaring over the water.
From so far up, the probending arena reminded Jinora of one of the paper lanterns that hung outside the meditation pavilion in the summer. Jinora banked towards the back of the arena, where she was less likely to be noticed. She landed smoothly and felt a twinge of nervousness. She was trying not be noticed tonight, but her glider could easily give her away. After some deliberation, she found that the back door to the arena was open and she hid her staff behind some boxes. Pulling the silk scarf tighter around her head, Jinora weaved her way through the crowd and grinned to herself when no one gave her a second thought.
Jinora was more familiar with the theory of Republic City than the actual streets; getting from the arena to downtown proved to be more challenging than she thought. Jinora found herself walking along some foggy, empty streets and looking down various alleyways, each one less appealing than the last. Finally she found a street name she recognized. Every sound and echo made Jinora jump, but she steeled herself and entered the narrow pass.
Confidence, she repeated to herself. No one will bother you if you just look confident. The small street was too small for satomobiles and extended for several blocks. Jinora's heart was racing but she made herself resist the urge to run the whole way there; it was better not to draw attention. She almost made the trip without any incident, too.
Jinora let herself feel relief when lit up shops and busy streets came into view, but it was all too soon replaced by cold fear when the end of the alley became blocked by two tall, smirking figures. Jinora swallowed and tried to calmly turn around, but found two other men blocking the alley in that direction as well. Jinora stopped dead in her tracks and felt panic rise up. Should've kept my glider, she berated herself. Slipping into a stance, Jinora tried to calculate the best way out of the mess. "Hey miss, you lost?" one of the men snickered.
Jinora grit her teeth and sent a wall of air backwards. The men in front of her lunged in her direction, but Jinora took an easy jump that put her more than half a story up the side of one building. She pushed off the wall with one foot and shot out over the thugs' heads. When her feet hit the ground she lunged into a sprint, leaving the men swearing and sputtering behind her. She pushed herself as far she could, but she could hear that she was still being pursued. She came around a corner sharply and saw that the main streets were only a couple blocks away.
She dug her toes in the ground, ready to run, when she heard a voice behind her yell, "Stop!" Jinora saw the figure out of the corner of her eye and lunged forward. She spun midair and shot a stream of harsh wind straight at her pursuer.
The figure let out an, "Ack!" and then a wall of earth came up to block him from Jinora's attack. Both the wall and the man were pushed to the ground. Jinora was about to turn and run, but then she saw the man's face in the light.
"Skoochy?"
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Tugging on a dull grey coat and securing a scarf around her forehead, Jinora felt guilt creep into her chest. She had worked so hard to earn her tattoos, and she was proud of her heritage; it was just that the bright orange robes and bright blue arrows made it hard for Jinora to go out in public without being recognized.
Looking out her window, Jinora could see the lights of Republic City announcing that the city's nightlife was just beginning. Jinora felt her heart swell with anticipation. Now seventeen, the call of the bustling city was too much for her to resist. She took a deep breath and jumped out her window.
Of course, the six-story drop was nothing for an airbending master. She made no sound as her feet touched the ground and ghosted across the training area. Since Korra had become a fully realized Avatar, the White Lotus centuries had long since left the island, which made sneaking out much easier. When most of the lights on Air Temple Island turned off, it seemed the lights of the city glowed even brighter. As she approached the high cliff overlooking Yue Bay, Jinora's gloved hands clutched her glider tighter. Just a little further, she thought. She sprinted the last few steps before jumping straight out into the open air. Her glider snicked open and with a push of air, Jinora was soaring over the water.
From so far up, the probending arena reminded Jinora of one of the paper lanterns that hung outside the meditation pavilion in the summer. Jinora banked towards the back of the arena, where she was less likely to be noticed. She landed smoothly and felt a twinge of nervousness. She was trying not be noticed tonight, but her glider could easily give her away. After some deliberation, she found that the back door to the arena was open and she hid her staff behind some boxes. Pulling the silk scarf tighter around her head, Jinora weaved her way through the crowd and grinned to herself when no one gave her a second thought.
Jinora was more familiar with the theory of Republic City than the actual streets; getting from the arena to downtown proved to be more challenging than she thought. Jinora found herself walking along some foggy, empty streets and looking down various alleyways, each one less appealing than the last. Finally she found a street name she recognized. Every sound and echo made Jinora jump, but she steeled herself and entered the narrow pass.
Confidence, she repeated to herself. No one will bother you if you just look confident. The small street was too small for satomobiles and extended for several blocks. Jinora's heart was racing but she made herself resist the urge to run the whole way there; it was better not to draw attention. She almost made the trip without any incident, too.
Jinora let herself feel relief when lit up shops and busy streets came into view, but it was all too soon replaced by cold fear when the end of the alley became blocked by two tall, smirking figures. Jinora swallowed and tried to calmly turn around, but found two other men blocking the alley in that direction as well. Jinora stopped dead in her tracks and felt panic rise up. Should've kept my glider, she berated herself. Slipping into a stance, Jinora tried to calculate the best way out of the mess. "Hey miss, you lost?" one of the men snickered.
Jinora grit her teeth and sent a wall of air backwards. The men in front of her lunged in her direction, but Jinora took an easy jump that put her more than half a story up the side of one building. She pushed off the wall with one foot and shot out over the thugs' heads. When her feet hit the ground she lunged into a sprint, leaving the men swearing and sputtering behind her. She pushed herself as far she could, but she could hear that she was still being pursued. She came around a corner sharply and saw that the main streets were only a couple blocks away.
She dug her toes in the ground, ready to run, when she heard a voice behind her yell, "Stop!" Jinora saw the figure out of the corner of her eye and lunged forward. She spun midair and shot a stream of harsh wind straight at her pursuer.
The figure let out an, "Ack!" and then a wall of earth came up to block him from Jinora's attack. Both the wall and the man were pushed to the ground. Jinora was about to turn and run, but then she saw the man's face in the light.
"Skoochy?"
The lanky figure grumbled swears and brushed crumbled rock off of him. At the sound of his name, he looked up and blinked with surprise. "Jinora? S'that you? What are you doing in this part of town at this time of night?"
Jinora snorted and offered him a hand, which he accepted. "Just trying to get downtown. What were you doing chasing me?" She couldn't help but stick out one hip and cross her arms accusingly.
Skoochy stood up and with a sweep of his arms bent the remaining dust off his clothes. "Not smart to be walking these streets alone. I'd be more than happy to escort you the rest of the way," he said seriously. He took her arm and ushered her down the street at brisk walk. "I saw you running from those thugs and I wanted to make sure you were ok," he said, resuming their earlier conversation. "Only, I didn't know it was you." Skoochy chuckled. "'Course you wouldn't have needed any help."
Jinora smiled shyly. She had met Skoochy years ago with the Fire Ferrets, and they'd run into each other a few time since then. He'd gotten taller since then—and handsomer, she thought.
"…you being an airbending master and all. I see you got your tattoos," Skoochy said, gesturing to her forehead. Jinora's eyes widened and her hand flew up to her head. She hadn't realized she had lost her scarf while running. Skoochy noticed her panic. "What's wrong? I didn't mean ta—"
"No, no," Jinora interrupted, blushing. "I was just, ah, hoping to be incognito tonight, that's all."
Skoochy considered her for a moment; they were almost at the station. He tapped his foot twice and took his hat off, holding it out to her. "Will this work?"
Jinora blinked up at him. Without the brim of his hat shadowing his face, Jinora was able to get a better look at him. Skoochy's features were sharp, except for an adorably upturned nose, though bumpy in a way that suggested it had been broken and healed irregularly. They were close enough that Jinora could see freckles dusting his nose despite his deeply tanned skinned. But his eyes were the same. She could see the same playful mischief in them she had always remembered; like he had decided he was going to steal a kiss from her and thought himself very clever for thinking of it.
She took the hat from his outstretched hand and pulled down so it just covered her arrow. "Thank you," she said with a small smile. Skoochy gave her a crooked grin in reply and Jinora felt her heart flutter in response.
"So what really brings you to the city?" Skoochy asked her as they continued walking. "The fancy restaurants, the shopping districts, a romantic walk through the park?" This last part was asked with a cheeky grin and sickeningly sweet tone.
Jinora laughed at this and shook her head. "Just feeling a little cooped up on the island, that's all. I wanted to see the city at night. I've been here plenty of times in the day, but I've never really had the chance to explore it."
Skoochy grinned and straightened at this. "Well, to be frank, you've done a rotten job exploring on your own." Jinora's eyebrows shot up and she opened her mouth to protest, but Skoochy didn't give her a chance. "You'll end up in some nasty neighborhoods without a proper guide! But it just so happens that I know this city like the back of m'hand." Skoochy stopped in front of her. "Since I'm already escorting you, it would be my pleasure to be your guide to Republic City tonight, mum." With a flourish, he stepped to one side and offered her his arm.
Jinora looked up at him and considered it. She had already come to grief due to her lack of knowledge and experience concerning the city. And Skoochy was trustworthy enough; sure, she might go home without her purse, but she'd definitely be alive. Not to mention, Jinora thought, the fact that for the life of me I probably couldn't find my way back to the docks by myself.
Jinora took his arm and said seriously, "Well, I hope the first stop on the tour is food. I'm starving."
Skoochy brought Jinora to a small pub just off one of the main streets. Jinora could hear live music and loud conversation coming from inside. Skoochy scratched his head and Jinora could've sworn he cheeks turned a little pink. "Er, maybe we should go some place a little less…rowdy."
Jinora just shot him a look. "Please. I live with Ikki, Meelo, and Korra. I can handle rowdy." With that she pushed passed him into the pub. Jinora was so busy making a point that she didn't see Skoochy grinning widely at her and shaking his head with wonder.
They waded through the crowded pub until Skoochy pointed out an open booth towards the back. They ordered food and Jinora couldn't help but look around the pub with wonder and little apprehension. She was still reeling somewhat from the fact that she had actually snuck out, unbeknownst to he parents, and was now sharing a booth in some crowded pub with a notorious thief and troublemaker. The books she had read seemed like nothing next to the thrill of actually living the adventure.
She caught Skoochy staring at her from the corner of her eye and turned back towards him. "What?" she asked with a small frown.
He gave her a small smile and shook his head. "This really is your first time out on your own, ain't it?"
Jinora fidgeted with her fingerless gloves. "Yeah, but I'm not on my own anymore, am I?" Skoochy raised his glass to her and took a swig of his drink. "So what are you doing out this side of the city? I thought you lived around Central City Station," Jinora asked.
Skoochy shrugged. "Not anymore. Few years back, Mako and Bolin got me some work at the arena." Skoochy jerked his head towards the window. "Since they're living the life of champion athletes, they moved out. And I got their old digs." Skoochy took another swig of his drink. After a second he continued, "It's good work. No problems with street gangs or triads and it comes with four walls and a bed every night." Skoochy was being casual about it, but Jinora could tell it was a lot for him.
"Do you think you'll join a team and compete too?" Jinora said, wanting to move on to a safer topic.
Skoochy looked in his drink and sad glumly, "No. Yes. Maybe." He sighed. "I don't know what I want. I never had much on my mind except for finding work and getting enough money to survive. But now…" He shrugged again. When he saw Jinora's gentle but sad gaze, he sat up straighter and the glint came back into his eyes. "So, what about you, hmm? No more training left, so what's in store for you? Besides living a double life in the center of Republic City's nightlife, of course."
Jinora wrinkled her nose at this, making Skoochy's smile grow. "Dad wants me to go into politics. Being the oldest and all, he expects me to take his position in the future."
Skoochy raised an eyebrow. "But you don't want to," he guessed.
Jinora looked out the window and sighed. "I don't know…I don't really have a choice. Dad says it's my duty, but…I don't know if I can do it." She paused before turning back to Skoochy with bright eyes. "What I really want to do is travel; you know, see the world. Most of all, I want to see the Air Temples. I've read so many accounts about how amazing they are. They're almost impossible to get to unless you fly!"
Jinora stopped and flushed, embarrassed at how much she had just revealed, but Skoochy seemed genuinely interested. He was leaning forward on his elbows and resting his head on one fist. When she stopped talking abruptly, Skoochy gave her the crooked grin that Jinora was really starting to like and said, "For what it's worth, I would feel much better knowing the city is in your hands." Jinora felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but was saved from a reply by the waitress setting their food on the table.
The two conversed easily over dinner. A new band rotated in and tables were cleared to make room for dancers. The music was fast and couples took turn showcasing their trickiest and most acrobatic dance moves. Jinora was watchimg with such rapt attention, she didn't notice Skoochy move to pull her up from her seat. "I don't know how to dance," she yelled over all the clapping and hooting. "Neither do I!" Skoochy shouted back with a laugh. "You just gotta be light on your feet, so it shouldn't be too hard for you, Jinora!"
"Skoochy!" Jinora protested, but she was laughing all the same. Skoochy tried to roughly imitate some of the other dancers, but he just ended twirling and spinning Jinora until she was stumbling over her own feet with dizziness—which was impressive considering how hard it was to make Jinora dizzy. Eventually Skoochy led her off the dance floor. They paid for their dinners and came out of the pub laughing and in high spirits.
Skoochy pulled Jinora along the street, saying, "We've wasted time already. We have a whole city to see!" Jinora laughed and tried to match his long strides.
Skoochy took her through the shopping district and showed her all the tiny thrift stores and unique shops. Many of the owners knew Skoochy by name and were equally friendly to Jinora. In a small woodshop, Jinora bought a small carving of a sky-bison. "For Meelo," she explained to Skoochy.
The tour continued towards the eastern part of the city until they reached Republic City Park. They stopped to rest for a while on one of the bridges overlooking the lake. Jinora had taken of her coat and gloves and was perched on the side of the bridge, Skoochy leaning against it next to her. They spoke quietly, not wanting to disrupt the placid atmosphere, and after some time, stopped talking altogether.
Skoochy picked up one of Jinora's hands and lightly traced the outline of the blue arrow. Jinora felt her breath catch in her throat, and felt her heart was beating loudly enough that she thought Skoochy must have been able to hear it. Without releasing her hand, Skoochy looked up at Jinora, his face unreadable. "Did it hurt, getting these?" His voice was so soft and Jinora only needed to lean down and their noses would hit. It was disorienting.
Jinora couldn't hold his intense gaze. She considered his question: it had hurt very much, and the process took hours. She remembered wanting to scream, but making a vow that she wouldn't; Korra was there, of course, to hold one hand, and Ikki held the other. Remembering the love and support of her family there made the memory almost painless.
Skoochy waited for her reply. It took Jinora another minute before she could meet his eyes again. "I suppose so. But they don't hurt now." Jinora yawned so widely her jaw popped, and a wave of exhaustion overtook her.
Skoochy saw her yawn and with some regret said, "It's getting late. Should probably get you back home." They hitched a ride on the bed of a truck taking supplies down to the docks. Jinora didn't notice herself nodding off until she awoke with her head on Skoochy's shoulder, his arm around her waist keeping her from falling.
The two walked down the now-empty pier that led to the probending arena side by side, shoulders or hands brushing now and then. Jinora's small nap had perked her up enough to maintain a conversation until they reached the site where Jinora landed.
The two faced each other and it became apparent to Jinora that now was the time for grand goodbyes. The way Skoochy was looking at her made her stomach flutter. "I must say, you are an impressive tour guide." She laughed a bit breathlessly. "And I would've been horrendously lost in the city without you. So, thanks." That was such a lame thing to say, she thought to herself discouragingly.
Skoochy took a step closer to her and Jinora's pulse tripled. "I'm sorry we didn't get to see the whole city. There's not enough time in one night to see all it's little treasures." He smiled at her with that damned crooked grin again.
"There are always more nights," Jinora all but squeaked. "If you wanted to do this again."
Skoochy's eyes flickered down to her lips and back to her eyes. "That I would." There seemed to be nothing left to say, and Jinora found herself leaning closer to him unconsciously. Then a tower clock in the distance rang out announcing it was quarter till the hour, making Jinora jump and pull back.
Skoochy ran a hand through his choppy brown hair and Jinora blushed. "I need to…get my glider," she said breathlessly.
But when she pulled on the door to where she stashed her glider, she found that the doors had been locked. Frowning, she pulled again, but to no use. She turned to Skoochy. "I can't get home without my glider."
Skoochy nodded. "I'll go around through the front and unlock it from inside. Wait here."
Several minutes later, Jinora heard clanging from the other side of the door. Then it swung open and Skoochy strode out, glider in hand.
Jinora smiled. "Thanks, Skoochy." She reached out to take up, but he yanked it out of reach. Jinora's eyebrows knit together. "What are you—"
"For all this talk about me being a good tour guide, you sure have been a lousy tipper." Skoochy's expression was all mischief now, crooked grin and all. "So the price of this particular glider is one kiss." Jinora made a small noise of surprise. "And the price is non-negotiable," he finished with a satisfied nod.
Jinora let out an incredulous laugh and felt herself flush. He had made her blush an awful lot tonight, and she felt the need to even the score. She squared her shoulders and stepped closer so they were almost chest-to-chest. "Fine." Skoochy had dropped his grin and blinked at Jinora, who was now only inches away. Ignoring her racing heart, Jinora rose up onto her tiptoes and gave him a small peck…
…on the cheek.
Before Skoochy could react, Jinora grabbed her glider and yanked it from him. However, Skoochy managed to hold onto it at the last second. In doing so, it had only brought him closer to Jinora, almost pinning her to the wall of the arena. Her breathing hitched, and Jinora knew Skoochy heard it. Skoochy gazed at Jinora and his intent was unmistakable. He leaned down to close the gap between their lips, slowly enough that she could break away if she wanted to.
She didn't.
Instead, she let her eyes drift shut as she felt the slightest brush of his lips against hers. When he didn't follow it up, she opened her eyes and found him staring at her again. "Jinora," he breathed.
This time she closed the gap between them, and kissed him with resolve. It was apparent that they'd been dancing around this for most of the night, and with uncertainty out of the way, Skoochy didn't hesitate. Taking a step forward, Skoochy put a hand on the wall next to Jinora. The height difference made it a bit awkward so that their noses bumped and neither could quite stand comfortably. With an annoyed grunt, Skoochy scuffed his shoe against the ground. Jinora yelped with surprise and gripped Skoochy's jacket as the earth under her rose a couple inches, putting her eye to eye with him.
Skoochy put a calloused hand behind her ear, thumb stroking her cheek. His lips were rough as well, but gentle when they captured her bottom lip between them. Her lips parted in a small sigh and Skoochy took the opportunity to kiss her more fully, pressing her back against the wall of the arena. In the back of her mind, Jinora registered the clatter of her long-forgotten glider hitting the ground. He tasted like the pop they had bought before the ride back to the docks, and the lack of breathing made Jinora feel more lightheaded than the dancing had. Skoochy's hands slipped to her waist, pulling their bodies flush, while Jinora wrapped her arms around his neck. She ran her hands through his hair, making him exhale sharply against her neck. He placed small kisses on her neck and under her ear, working his way to her nose and her lips again—
They stayed tangled like that until the clock tower boomed again. The loud toll made Jinora jump, and she realized it was almost morning. Skoochy kissed her again. "I have…to go," she breathed in between kisses. Skoochy nodded but kissed her once more, twice, before stepping away. He picked up her glider from the ground beside them and handed it to her. Jinora was at a loss for words. She went straighten her hair and realized she was still wearing his hat. Taking it off, she held it out to him.
He didn't take it right away. "I kinda like you wearing my hat," he said with a breathy chuckle.
Jinora was relieved that he was just as breathless as she was. "Then keep it safe until the next time I see you." Skoochy smiled and took her hands in his. He placed a kiss on each one of the arrows on her hands. Then he placed one on her forehead, and then one final sweet kiss on her lips. "Bye," she whispered softly.
He smiled against her lips. "Only for now."
Jinora stepped away and opened her glider. With a smile on her lips, she turned and ran, jumping of the dock and into the air. Halfway to the island, she looked back and could only make out the faintest outline of the figure on the dock. Feeling her heart soar, Jinora let her glider plummet and rise and twirl but it still could not illustrate how free and lighthearted she felt.
When she landed by the training field, Jinora leaned on her staff a moment to catch her breath. But a sudden crash from the direction of her home made Jinora cold with panic that she had been caught. She shrunk into the shadows and tried to make out who she was hearing. Her fear turned to confusion when she heard a distinctly male voice cursing, and a distinctly Korra voice laughing. The voices were muted and Jinora strained to hear them. But when a disheveled Mako fell out of the tree under Korra's bedroom window, the fear melted away and Jinora felt the urge to laugh.
Pushing out of the shadows, Jinora walked without fear towards her home. Mako was surprised to cross paths with her turned several shades of red when he saw her. "Jinora! Are you just getting in? It's a bit late don't you think," he managed to say, stumbling over the words.
Rather than point out the hypocrisy of his question, she just smiled at him. "Your shirt is on inside out." He looked down at himself and cursed, ears turning even pinker. Jinora laughed. "Goodnight, Mako," she called as she strode past him.
"Er, you too. Stay out of trouble!" he threw after her as she took a running leap to her window. When she came through the window of her room, she saw a barely dressed Korra leaning against her wall.
"Late night?" Korra asked as Jinora pulled off her coat and shoes.
"You're one to talk," Jinora said cheekily, unable to contain her giddiness.
Korra's eyebrows shot up with surprise at her unusual audacity . "Look at you, all lit up like the Probending Arena. Where did you go?"
Jinora grinned even wider. "Took a tour of the city, that's all."
Korra narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Huh. Did you run into any trouble?"
Jinora thought about it for a moment before replying, "Just the good kind."
Notes: Makorra. Man, I'm on a feel-good streak today. Must be the whole 'being back in the saddle' thing. Also, Bolin at the end <3
Excerpt:
She wasn't usually a morning person, but after sleeping most of the day and the majority of the night she was wide awake. The feeling of rest was welcomed, especially now that she was curled up against Mako. His body was warm against hers and he held her tightly against him, she never took the stony fire bender as someone who cuddled.
Korra looked up at him, his strong jaw relaxed and so was the rest of his features, it looked good on him. Maybe they could skip out on the day and just lay there in bed. She frowned slightly this wasn't really her place to be cuddled against him after spending the night, though fully clothed in . . . his shirt? When had that happened?
Mako tightened his grip on her, probably feeling her tense. "Sleep Kor-rah, it's too early." He whispered in his sleep. She looked up at him and concluded that he had wanted her here, even in his sleep muddled brain.
Though awake, she buried her nose into his chest and the hand that had pinned her to his side ran through her hair. It was calming and it felt nice, but not enough to quiet her brain. Sitting still was not one of her best qualities, but she laid there quietly and enjoyed herself.
Thinking back to the day before, she tried to remember how she got into this position. She had fallen asleep at practice and he had let her stay asleep. She remembered being a walking dead as she walked inside the gym, but did not remember coming up the stairs. Korra bit her lip, she didn't know how she got changed out of her clothes and into his bed, not that she doubted him being ever the gentleman.
Korra did remember waking up when he was getting ready for bed and she flushed, she did remember asking him to stay with her. Her insides melted a little, the tough-guy attitude was just an act. Mako, professional fire bender and overall bad ass really was a sweet guy that wasn't so deep down.
She turned her head to see the morning sun start to rise and decided that she was going to show her gratitude by making him breakfast. The real challenge was getting up though, she started to sit up and he tightened his grip on her. After a moment, she successfully sat up and leaned down, pressing her lips to his forehead as she climbed over him with a new found agility of an Airbender.
Tip toeing down the stairs she turned the light on into the kitchen and opened the food box in hopes something she could attempt to make would be inside. At home in the South Pole, she never had to cook because she was constantly surrounded by people who would cook for her, domesticity was not her forte either.
To her luck, the box had eggs and some kind of meat surely she could handle that.
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She wasn't usually a morning person, but after sleeping most of the day and the majority of the night she was wide awake. The feeling of rest was welcomed, especially now that she was curled up against Mako. His body was warm against hers and he held her tightly against him, she never took the stony fire bender as someone who cuddled.
Korra looked up at him, his strong jaw relaxed and so was the rest of his features, it looked good on him. Maybe they could skip out on the day and just lay there in bed. She frowned slightly this wasn't really her place to be cuddled against him after spending the night, though fully clothed in . . . his shirt? When had that happened?
Mako tightened his grip on her, probably feeling her tense. "Sleep Kor-rah, it's too early." He whispered in his sleep. She looked up at him and concluded that he had wanted her here, even in his sleep muddled brain.
Though awake, she buried her nose into his chest and the hand that had pinned her to his side ran through her hair. It was calming and it felt nice, but not enough to quiet her brain. Sitting still was not one of her best qualities, but she laid there quietly and enjoyed herself.
Thinking back to the day before, she tried to remember how she got into this position. She had fallen asleep at practice and he had let her stay asleep. She remembered being a walking dead as she walked inside the gym, but did not remember coming up the stairs. Korra bit her lip, she didn't know how she got changed out of her clothes and into his bed, not that she doubted him being ever the gentleman.
Korra did remember waking up when he was getting ready for bed and she flushed, she did remember asking him to stay with her. Her insides melted a little, the tough-guy attitude was just an act. Mako, professional fire bender and overall bad ass really was a sweet guy that wasn't so deep down.
She turned her head to see the morning sun start to rise and decided that she was going to show her gratitude by making him breakfast. The real challenge was getting up though, she started to sit up and he tightened his grip on her. After a moment, she successfully sat up and leaned down, pressing her lips to his forehead as she climbed over him with a new found agility of an Airbender.
Tip toeing down the stairs she turned the light on into the kitchen and opened the food box in hopes something she could attempt to make would be inside. At home in the South Pole, she never had to cook because she was constantly surrounded by people who would cook for her, domesticity was not her forte either.
To her luck, the box had eggs and some kind of meat surely she could handle that.
Slowly Mako woke up alone in his bed, slightly confused he sat up to check if he was the only on there. Where did Korra run off to? He heard some clinking of dishes in the kitchen and judging from the position of the sun, it had to be said Avatar.
There was a small crash, followed by a string of cussing that he didn't know was possible from the water bender. With a small chuckled he got up and slowly wandered to the kitchen to see it filled with smoke and a very angry Korra. He watched her for a moment as she moved to flip what used to resemble an egg, cracking the yolk and smearing it all over the pan, she swore again under her breath as she burned herself trying to fix it. "Need some help?" Mako offered from the door way.
She turned around with a pout on her face and he found it oddly intimate that she was in his kitchen, wearing nothing but his shirt with her hair tied back in a knot sans her normal water tribe hair pieces. Korra's face fell in disappointment and her hands fell to her side. "I was trying to make you breakfast, sort of a thank you for letting me stay the night." She responded and she looked to the floor. "I'm not a very good cook."
His smile softened as he padded barefoot into the kitchen. "It's okay." He said roughly in his morning voice. "I appreciate it though." His hand went to her arm and gave it a squeeze, she looked up with a small smile.
Mako took her hand to see an angry burn mark that was starting to form on it and suddenly she looked sheepish. "I never really learned how to cook, growing up with so many mentors and. . ." She froze when he pressed his lips to her hand and smoothing it with his thumb.
"I'll show you." He said simply, he had ample opportunity to make fun of her but he didn't. He went to the fridge and pulled out some more eggs, ignoring the fact that he would have to be creative to buy some more. He wiped off the messy pan and set it back on the stove. "When you crack the egg, you need to be gentle."
He positioned himself behind her, sandwiching her between the stove top as he tapped the shell against the counter and opened the egg with one hand, it fell onto the hot pan cleanly. Korra muttered under her breath and the close proximity made him hear it clearly. "Show off." Korra took the egg and softly tapped it on the counter and attempted to one handedly open it. It didn't fall as cleanly, but stayed in one place and shattered the shell. "I did it!"
Mako smiled, enjoying the closeness between them as he took a spatula and handed it to her. "Now you want to wait just long enough for it to settle before you try to flip it." He said into her ear, she turned to clearify his instruction and he shrugged. "Patience is the real key."
"You sound like an Airbender." Korra mumbled as she watched the eggs cook on the pan.
Mako shrugged, resting his hand on her hip. "I'm not a hotheaded water bender." He teased, gaining a sharp elbow to his stomach. They settled into a silence as they waited for the eggs to cook and she leaned into his warm embrace, she wasn't good at waiting and Mako kept her planted. "Try flipping it." He said after a long, long silence.
She attempted to flip the first egg and slightly panicked when the end of the spatula didn't go under completely. Mako took her hand in his and guided her through the motions of turning the egg over. "Thanks." She said shyly and she attempted the second one, it successfully turned over. Excitedly she turned in his arms and threw them around his neck. "I did it!"
He moved his head as to not get hit in the head with a spatula, but held her to him. "You're going to burn it, if you don't pay attention." He said after ample time to relish in her closeness.
"Oh." She said, bouncing slightly as she returned to her task. He moved away to grab some bread to lightly toast as she dished up the eggs onto a plate. He faced her and she shrugged. "No need to dirty more dishes than necessary."
He shrugged as she handed him the plate so that she could hoist herself up on the counter. When she settled, she crossed her ankles and beckoned him closer to her so that she could eat. Mako held the plate up and handed her a fork so that she could eat with him.
They ate in silence, occasionally glancing up at the other shyly as they ate. The silence didn't last long, it was soon filled with laughter as they fought over the last piece of egg, ultimately Korra won that battle, but not before getting the runny yolk all over her face. She went to wipe it off, but Mako stopped her and pressed his lips to hers.
Korra responded eagerly, clearly the intimacy of the entire situation was catching up to her. She was wearing his clothes, they were making breakfast together, and she was sitting in just his shirt that stopped mid-thigh with him standing between her legs. And they were kissing.
She deepened the kiss and his hands wandered up her bare thighs.
"WOAH!" Said a voice from the kitchen door and they jumped apart. A sleepy eyed, earth bender looked at them in shock before wiping his eyes and padding over to the table. "It's too early to walk in on that sort of stuff."
Mako wasn't sure how to react, but Korra jumped off the counter lightly and moved back to the icebox. "I will make you breakfast." She offered.
"That's more like it." Bolin mumbled and waited patiently for her to make him breakfast.
Summary: Lin Beifong never wanted any children, so she didn't. And for her, that was okay. Most of the time.
Notes: But wait, this is adorable.
Excerpt:
She was sitting in her office, writing up reports on the last gang bookings when he burst through the door, his long beard frazzled and that one vein on his forehead bulging from his anxiety.
"Thank goodness you're here!" he exclaimed. He pushed back his long robes to reveal his infant son. He rushed over and spun Lin around in her chair and quickly, but carefully, shoved the child into her hands.
Lin was momentarily stunned—and that didn't happen often. But never in her 50 plus years had Tenzin ever just…tossed his children at her. Literally. The baby instantly awoke and squirmed, obviously uncomfortable with the metal-clad arms that held him. Rohan looked at her with his wide eyes—his mother's eyes—and Lin saw a glistening gloss of tears as his bottom lip quivered.
"Tenzin!" She hissed. "What is the meaning of this?"
Tenzin wove his fingers together and shook them in a begging manner. "Please, just watch over him until this meeting is over. It was last minute and I said I'd watch him, but I don't have time to go back to the temple—" he stopped as he watched Lin fidget with the baby. He saw the discomfort, the absolute confusion in her expression, as she fumbled to figure out the best way to hold him.
"I'm sorry," he immediately apologized. He reached out for his son. "Let me just—I bet I can find Mako in time."
Lin started rocking the baby up and down—Rohan's eyes slowly closed and she felt his little body start to relax into her touch. Her mouth almost fell open in shock—almost. She noticed Tenzin's arm in the corner of her eye and she took one step back, cradling the child close to her chest.
"No," she suddenly barked. She coughed, noticing Tenzin's baffled look. "No, it's quite alright." she tried again, softly. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of him," she said, more to herself. "Now go on—I'll be here when you get back." Lin looked back down and noticed the baby's head was buried beneath her bust, fast asleep.
She could practically feel Tenzin's goofy smile.
Lin didn't look up, instead choosing to play with the baby's small tuffs of hair as she rocked back and forth on her heels. Plus, she could feel her own heartbeat, the heat burning beneath her cheeks, and she'd be damned if she'd let Tenzin see her flustered like she got when they were young.
"Go,"she barked; he did, wordlessly.
As the door to her office closed she felt herself smile.
Read the rest on FF.net or hit the break to continue:
Lin Beifong never wanted any children.
So, she didn't.
And for her, that was okay
Most of the time.
.
.
.
She was sitting in her office, writing up reports on the last gang bookings when he burst through the door, his long beard frazzled and that one vein on his forehead bulging from his anxiety.
"Thank goodness you're here!" he exclaimed. He pushed back his long robes to reveal his infant son. He rushed over and spun Lin around in her chair and quickly, but carefully, shoved the child into her hands.
Lin was momentarily stunned—and that didn't happen often. But never in her 50 plus years had Tenzin ever just…tossed his children at her. Literally. The baby instantly awoke and squirmed, obviously uncomfortable with the metal-clad arms that held him. Rohan looked at her with his wide eyes—his mother's eyes—and Lin saw a glistening gloss of tears as his bottom lip quivered.
"Tenzin!" She hissed. "What is the meaning of this?"
Tenzin wove his fingers together and shook them in a begging manner. "Please, just watch over him until this meeting is over. It was last minute and I said I'd watch him, but I don't have time to go back to the temple—" he stopped as he watched Lin fidget with the baby. He saw the discomfort, the absolute confusion in her expression, as she fumbled to figure out the best way to hold him.
"I'm sorry," he immediately apologized. He reached out for his son. "Let me just—I bet I can find Mako in time."
Lin started rocking the baby up and down—Rohan's eyes slowly closed and she felt his little body start to relax into her touch. Her mouth almost fell open in shock—almost. She noticed Tenzin's arm in the corner of her eye and she took one step back, cradling the child close to her chest.
"No," she suddenly barked. She coughed, noticing Tenzin's baffled look. "No, it's quite alright." she tried again, softly. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of him," she said, more to herself. "Now go on—I'll be here when you get back." Lin looked back down and noticed the baby's head was buried beneath her bust, fast asleep.
She could practically feel Tenzin's goofy smile.
Lin didn't look up, instead choosing to play with the baby's small tuffs of hair as she rocked back and forth on her heels. Plus, she could feel her own heartbeat, the heat burning beneath her cheeks, and she'd be damned if she'd let Tenzin see her flustered like she got when they were young.
"Go,"she barked; he did, wordlessly.
As the door to her office closed she felt herself smile.
.
.
.
Lin stuffed her hands in her coat as they walked. She had just finished watching over Rohan—a habit she picked up in the last few weeks. Tenzin started coming by more often to drop Rohan off. Sometimes it was just him, but most often he was with Korra. The young Avatar would burst into her apartment like she owned it and start to dirty her kitchen as she tried to cook. Well, not as much as cook as bake sweets. And not as much bake as burn. Sometimes she brought along a deck of cards or books. Today she had bought her a Pai Sho set that they could play while Rohan slept.
All in all, Lin had been spending a lot of time with the Avatar.
A light autumn breeze blew through the park and Lin watched as leaves got caught in Korra's ponytail, unnoticed by her.
"So, you're training Bolin to be on the force?"
"Yes." Lin answered, wandering over to sit on a park bench, Korra hot on her tail. The Avatar sat with a heavy thud, throwing her head back to look at the canopy of leaves above them. The bench was under the largest tree in the park—it was bursting with colors. Some leaves were still green, others, bright yellow or dark red. Korra's eyes traced the spaces of light, trying to collect patterns.
"He said you were going to train him personally. Since when do you work at the academy?"
Lin regarded Korra, one slender brow pushed to her hairline. She watched as the young girl nibbled on her lips and more leaves fell from the tree, collecting in her hair and her lap. Finally, Lin reached over and gently tugged a red leaf that was dangerously close to brushing her cheek away. Korra sat up instantly and watched with quiet awe as Lin picked out a few more leaves. Lin made sure to yank at her ponytail playfully before she was done.
"Your friend is very talented. I intend to see that he masters in my mother's art form. After all, I'm the only one who knows all her secrets." A knowing smirk tugged at her lips.
Korra beamed. "That's great!" Another breeze blew, cold, and Lin saw the slight shiver that ran up Korra's spine.
"Why aren't you wearing a parka?" Lin snapped.
Korra snorted. "Um, because it's not even cold?" her words betrayed her as a gust blew this time, forcing her to clamp her teeth together to keep them from chattering.
Lin rolled her eyes. "Spirits, Korra," she reprimanded as she got up and untied the sashes of her coat. She shrugged it off and threw it at Korra, making sure it smacked her in the face before she took her seat again.
Korra sputtered, bunching the somewhat heavy coat in her hands. "Oh, it's not that bad, I don't—"
Lin held up her hand. "Don't give me that. You're shaking. You've got nothing but that measly tank top on," her eyes roamed over her, picking up the details she'd just bothered to notice; the slight rips up by the shoulder, the loose threads where the hem was coming undone—the color was faded almost white and she wondered if this girl had any other clothes.
But Korra didn't argue and slipped the coat on—the sleeves were way too long and the bottom brushed the back of her calves. But it was warm, she decided, so warm she was tempted to snuggle in the collar. "Thanks!" Korra chirped.
"Don't mention it, kid."
And it wasn't until Korra was back on the island, eating dinner with Tenzin and his family did she realize—
"Korra…is that Lin's jacket?"
—Lin never, not once, asked for it back.
.
.
.
For some reason, Lin felt herself having to squash hesitation before she picked up the phone and called. It rung three times before a song-like voice on the other end picked up.
"Sato Residence, Asami speaking."
"Miss Sato, this is Chief Beifong."
She waited for a response. She heard a bit of scuttling before, "What can I do for you, Lin?"
Lin stared at the mug shots on her desk. "We've apprehended your father."
This time, Lin heard the distinct sound of the phone hitting the ground. A few seconds later she finally replied, "…Good."
And then Asami hung up.
Lin wasn't sure what to do next. She hadn't gotten the chance to explain that, unfortunately, it was necessary for Asami to come down to the station. There was paperwork she needed to sign, confirmations to make, statements to look over. But Lin pushed the thought out of her head and decided to make the most of the situation. She began weeding through the paperwork, taking out a highlighter and highlighting the important parts in hope that Asami would get this done as fast as possible.
She was on the trial declarations when a faint knock sounded on her door. "Saikhan, I've already told you. I don't give two—"
"Sorry, Lin, I got here as fast as I could."
Lin stopped short as Asami shuffled in—her face was pale, void of makeup, and her hair was tied up in a neat bun. She sat in the seat across from her desk and reached for the papers in Lin's hand. It was a big pile, but Asami licked her index finger and began casually flipping through them, trying to get the gist of what was going on.
"So, do I read and sign these first or—"
"Miss Sato."
"—wait, does this include company rights and homeowner-ship because I've already had a hard time—"
"Miss Sato, please."
"—with my lawyers because they say that since my mother died, things haven't been updated and I just—"
"Asami."
Lin waited for the same shade of pale green to look her in the eye. She must have been staring at the young girl more intently than she thought because she immediately looked away, flustered. Asami sighed and slapped the papers back on the desk.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking to the ground.
Lin simply nodded, rising from her chair. "Would you care to see him?" Lin asked.
Asami whipped her head up so fast her neck cracked. A few strands of hair fell out of her bun and came to frame her face. Lin noticed the fear, the sadness; the utter and complete frustration bundled up inside her. "Only if you want," Lin added.
Asami stared, her expression blank, before she nodded, slowly. They filed out of the office, Asami hot on her tail. When they reached the interrogation room, Lin stopped abruptly and Asami tripped, colliding into her back. Lin spun around and squinted at Asami.
"…Would you like me to accompany you?"
Asami peered past Lin, trying to see through the terribly small window of the door—she caught sight of her father's round-rim glasses. "…No, but thank you."
A bit reluctant, Lin opened the door and Asami went in.
The young woman shut it with a slam
Lin stood outside the door the entire time—she never budged. Their conversation was loud, heated, and the vibrations from their shouts tickled her feet. She didn't need her mother's ears to pick up some of the cries:
"…You've destroyed yourself!…"
"…I did what was right!…"
"…I hate what you've become!…"
"…I should have killed you when I had the chance!"
That was the last thing Lin heard before Asami burst through the door. She left it open, leaving two metalbenders to deal with Hiroshi. Asami stormed past her, sparing not a glance, not a word and headed straight for the door to the station.
Lin felt teardrops hit the metal floor as she walked.
The chief suddenly found herself following the young woman—Asami had stopped right outside, two steps from the street. Her eyes kept following the trail of honking Satomobiles that flew past the busy street. Lin could feel Asami's heartbeat go wild in her ribcage. Her feet kept twitching, as if trying to step in to the street, but she seemed to stop herself every time.
Lin knew what it felt like to be alone—albeit, she wasn't entirely familiar with the feeling of her parents hating her—but she knew the feeling of abandonment. It had happened, long ago, and she watched as the love her life leave her, because while he promised her he still loved her, they just couldn't work.
Lin knew what it was like to love someone but…it just couldn't work.
"Asami?"
The young girl whipped around, surprised. She wiped away her tears. "Lin? Oh, goodness, I'm sorry, I—"
"Do you know Korra's size?
Asami stared at her, baffled, before her lips twitched into a shaky smile. "Yeah?
"Good. Come with me."
It was weird. Lin had never been down the fashion district in Republic City before, but as soon as Asami pulled up, she could tell the young woman was right at home. Asami dragged her to her favorite store, a small boutique right on the corner. It was quiet, with no one in it with the exception of the owner. There was a corner of just fabrics, where you could buy all kinds to sew your own clothes. Asami marveled in the new seasons new shades of red before she finally dragged Lin to the other side so they could pick something out for Korra.
"This was a good idea—I needed a fun distraction." She eyed Lin. "What exactly did Korra say she needed?
Lin busied herself by looking through a rack of blouses, completely unsure of what to do. She pulled one out: puffy and frilly, and quickly shoved it back, making sure to hide it so no one else would think to buy something so heinous. "I've noticed her wardrobe is…lacking. Many of her things are tired and worn." She snorted. "If she keeps wearing that tank top, the threads are going to unravel completely one of these days."
Asami laughed: a great booming laugh that had the shopkeeper looking over fondly. "I can't tell you how many times I've told her that! I've tried buying her stuff several timesbefore, but she never came with me." She picked up a dress and examined it closely. "Now that she knows it was your idea, there's no way she'd reject them."
They continued looking around, Asami picking out things for the approaching winter and Lin just pretending she knew what she was doing. Eventually, she stumbled upon a dress: It was made of some soft material, and judging by the price, she guessed it was quality. It was a deep emerald green with faint patterns of flowers stitched in gold up the sides.
It wasn't exactly Korra's style, but Lin figured it would look good on Asami.
"Here," she said bluntly, shoving the garment under Asami's nose. "Try this on."
Asami beamed. "I think I will. Nice pick."
As she sauntered into the dressing room in the back, Lin took note of the large pile of clothes Asami had already saved for Korra on a chair by the register. Reaching into her coat pocket, she walked over and slapped some money on the counter.
"This should cover everything in that pile—including the dress that young lady is trying on right now."
The owner sifted through the wad of cash. "Such a sweet thing to do for your daughter, ma'am."
Lin's eyes widened and she coughed into her hands. "Ah, well…I better get going."
Moments later, Asami came out twirling in the dress. "Damn, Lin, you've got taste! I mean, I love how—Lin?"
The store was empty.
"Your mother just left, sweetheart. But don't worry—she already paid for everything. Including that dress!" The owner squealed, prancing over. "She knows you well, doesn't she?"
But Asami was too lost in shock to register the compliment. "Wait, she paid for?…but she's not my mo—"
She stopped herself, laughing.
"Yeah, I guess she knows me pretty well after all."
.
.
.
"You got to keep the ice on, to keep the swelling down," Lin told him softly, handing him the small icepack. He gave a faint nod and covered his right eye. He was slow with his movements, and as she watched carefully, she noticed the shaking of his hands, how he gripped the hospital sheets until his knuckles were white. She leaned forward in the chair.
"…Are you taking any pain medication at all?"
His response was slow as he bit his lip and shook his head. The kid only had one eye now, and he kept it closed, tight. Lin sighed and reached over to the IV and saw where he had pulled it out.
"Spirits, kid," she grumbled, hooking it back in. She slapped his hand a little harshly when he tried to pull it back out again. "You don't have to be so brave—you just lost your eye. That's got to hurt."
Lin picked up on the soft shrug of his shoulder. "If there's anything you taught me, it's that I'm strong enough to push through pain."
Lin sighed again. "And if there's anything youtaught me,it's that I've grown into the same stubborn ass my mother was." She felt her own anxiety lesson when his grip on the sheets got looser and looser. "You are strong—you kept fighting even after that knife went in your eye."
Bolin frowned. "Did you get him?"
"What do you think?"
His frown instantly turned into a faint grin. "I hope you made him hurt."
Lin sneered, leaning back in her chair. "Not enough—but Saikhan had to pull me off before I could beat him any more."
He sighed, somewhat contently—she suspected the pain meds were at work. "Ah, you're better than that scum anyway, Linnykins."
She let the nickname slide—there was no sense in beating him up at the moment. "I know."
"Hey, Lin?"
"Mmm."
"Thanks for teaching me, for making me your apprentice. It looks like that seismic sense is going to be even more handy these days."
Lin grimaced. "You still have your other eye," she reminded him. "You'll be surprised how well you'll adapt." Lin was reminded of how her mother had better senses of everything to replace her sight. Better hearing, better smelling, better taste. Lin imagined that his other eye would only get stronger, sharper.
Bolin chuckled, and she heard the sleepiness in his laugh. "Now I see why this was so important to Toph."
Lin sucked in a breath and breathed it out slowly. "You aren't like my mother."
"Well, not yet—I got one more eye to go." he snickered. He finally opened his eye, bloodshot and tired, and looked over at Lin. For the first time since he joined the police force he saw worry in the lines of her forehead and the wrinkles around her eyes. "I'm…fine," he yawned. His eye twitched, fluttering closed.
She watched as his breathing steadied, his fingers relaxed. The pain medication was wiping him out. The room was silent, save for a few chirping birds heard outside his open window and the heart monitor that reminded her that his job didn't kill him,he was still alive.
But it didn't make that sinking feeling go away.
Lin didn't like how scared she was when she found out he was in here.
"I'm so sorry, kid," she whispered. He was her student, her apprentice, and her right hand man. Other people had been injured on the job—a few missing fingers and hands, dozens of scars. There were head injuries that wiped out memories and of course, there were head injuries that left people sleeping for an eternity.
She was good at being strong, and pushing forward. But this time, not so much.
When she thought him asleep she stood slowly from the chair. She leaned down, and gently moved his hair aside and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. She collected her things and headed for the door when she heard it, faint and fleeting.
"Thanks…mom."
.
.
.
Bolin was released a few days later under Mako's care. Lin kept calling, trying to check up on them, but there was never an answer to the phone. Fed up with not having the control she was so used to, she dug up their address—they had moved back into that ratty attic apartment. She marched over there and barged in, not even bothering to knock.
It was late when she found Mako standing in a small kitchenette in the corner of the room. She instantly felt his posture tense, ready to defend himself, but he slowly relaxed.
"Lin."
"Mako."
"What are you doing here?" he groaned, and she heard the weariness in his voice she walked over. Her hands glided over the counter tops—dusty. She wiped the grime on her coat and huffed.
"Just checking up." Her nose wrinkled and she peered inside the pot. "What are you cooking?"
"Stew."
"Are you sure?" Lin sniffed. "Doesn't smell like it."
Mako gritted his teeth. "Yes, I'm sure. Just because we don't have real money for real food doesn't mean I can't cook."
Lin shifted her weight, her hands on her hips. She didn't appear fazed. Mako groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.
"I'm so sorry," he breathed. "It's just I had a double shift and the power plant today and Bolin is still healing and he had another bleed, It's normal, the doctor said, but I had to wrap new bandages and now I have to cook and It's just late and—"
Lin rolled her eyes. "Don't sweat it. Just sit," she demanded, pointing to the couch.
"Huh?"
She gripped him by the shoulders and walked him to the sofa. "Sit. Lay. Sleep. I'll take care of it."
"But—"
"No buts."Her hands went back to her hips. "You're a mess; you've ruined that stew. So just sleep, alright?"
Lin wandered to the kitchen again. She sniffed the stew and fought a grimace. She opened up several cabinets and pulled out all the spices she could find before she began attacking the soup, trying to give it some flavor. Thirty minutes later, the stew was ready, Bolin was fed and when she went to tell Mako that she had everything under control, all she heard was his loud snoring.
So Lin took the blanket on the back of the couch, drapped it over him, and tucked him in. She checked to make sure the stove was off before she turned off the lights and went home.
.
.
.
Two weeks after Bolin was released from the hospital, she was invited to dinner at Air Temple Island. It was loud and rambunctious. As she walked up the steps to the training area, she saw Korra on the ground, Ikki in a headlock and Meelo gnawing on the Avatar's ear. Jinora was in he corner playing a game of Pai Sho, and Mako sat on Bolin's right, pointing out moves to help Jinora cheat, obviously thinking he was in Bolin's new blind spot. However, his brother was well aware of the sabotage and just as Lin had managed to get past the rowdy bunch of airbenders, Bolin turned around and tackled his brother to the ground, upsetting the board and sending pieced flying everywhere.
Lin leaned down and whispered in Jinora's ear. "Next time, try playing Four Nations—he's terrible at the one. You won't have to cheat."
"I heard that!"
"Good."
Dinner was just as loud. There was laughter and shouting and Lin couldn't help but snicker at each and every embarrassing story about Tenzin that Korra or Pema would whisper in her ear. The food was great, the company even better and Lin almost forgot what being alone was like.
She was adding a second helping of fruit when it happened.
Bolin was sitting beside her, constantly bumping into Lin's shoulder when Ikki would try to swipe at his food. He laughed every time, but when he eyed the papaya in the bowl he pointed and exclaimed:
"Oohh, pass the fruit, Mom!"
The entire room went dead quiet.
Lin suddenly noticed every set of eyes on her. Tenzin's fork clattered into his plate and the food that Meelo and Korra were smearing on each other's faces dripped slowly as their mouths gaped wide. Lin braced herself and looked at Bolin: His cheeks were bright red with embarrassment and he tried not to look her in the eye.
"I—uh—"
That's when his brother reached across the table and took the bowl from her hands. "Nah, that's alright I got it. Thanks, mom."
Lin just stared.
The room burst into laughter—-most of it Korra's. Lin whipped her head over to Korra and tried to glare, but the cheeky avatar just threw her a twisted smile and a glittering wink.
"I'm just teasing, Mom!" she exclaimed.
From beside Tenzin, Asami waved her spoon in mock disapproval at Korra. "Hey. Don't go and tease my mother."
"But it's fun!"
Things went back to normal after that. And Lin, for the life of her, couldn't understand why.
They finished dinner and not once did she bother to correct them.
.
.
.
"She's beautiful," Lin told Korra.
Korra bounced her newborn daughter in her arms as she slept. "Yeah, I know," she whispered.
Mako came over with a tray of tea—he handed a cup to Lin. "Thanks for coming over."
Lin nodded, taking a sip—his cooking skills had improved. "Of course—but what was so urgent that I had to come all the way from Gaoling?" She smirked. "Not that I minded the interruption."
Mako shrugged. "We just thought our daughter should meet her namesake as soon as possible."
Lin sputtered on her tea. "What.
Korra laughed. "Lin, meet your goddaughter—Lin!" She held the baby out towards her. "Wanna hold her?" she asked softly.
Lin wordlessly accepted the offer. She rocked the baby back in forth. Eventually, the baby recognized she was out of her mother's hold and opened her eyes—bright and amber, the same color as her father's.
"Hey, Lin," she whispered to the baby. "I'm your godmother." The words rolled off her tongue and left a funny taste in her mouth, but she found she didn't mind all too much
Korra leaned over and squeezed her shoulder. "Since when did you become such a softie?"
Lin sighed. "You all are completely and utterly to blame." She deadpanned, sending the new parents into a fit of giggles.
The piercing ringing of the alarm wrenched him from sleep's comforting hold yet again, just as it did every morning. At 6:00 every morning, Mako would throw off the covers, sometimes willingly but more often very, very reluctantly, and begin preparing for a new day. Brush his teeth, wash his face, train for an hour and a half, shower, and then it was off to the station for another day on the job. Sometimes there'd be gang busts and car chases, but most of the time it was just him on patrol. Then, he'd come home, have dinner by himself if Bolin was still at the gym, and get ready for bed. Lather, rinse, repeat.
It was a morning just like any other, ready to bleed into a day that blended in with the day before and the day after, each indeterminate from the others. Or at least that's what Mako thought as he hauled himself out of bed. And it was just an ordinary day as he brushed his teeth, washed his face and carried out his everyday routine. Yes, it was just a normal day as he shrugged on his uniform and headed out the door.
The usual hustle and bustle greeted Mako when he got to the station. He was usually on day shifts now, that's just how things worked out, but he worked nights as well so he was pretty close with everyone who worked in the Republic City precinct.
"Morning, Mako" Jun called out when he saw the firebender walk in. He was only a few years older than Mako, but he'd been in the force long enough to take him under his wing and show him the ropes of how things worked. He was probably the closest friend at work Mako had.
"Morning, Jun" Mako replied with a smile. "The chief in?"
"Nah, she's out right now but she'll probably be by later this afternoon. She's a busy lady." Lin had reassumed her place as the Chief of Police. The already incredible amount of respect he'd had for the woman only increased after he began working with her. She was firm, dedicated, both to the city and her men, and got the job done. It was pretty intimidating, actually. It was funny how different his life had become. For the longest time, he and his brother had been just barely getting by; he'd had to work with slimy guys just to make sure food was on the table. Whether there would be a lot or a little depended on luck. But now, here he was, with a solid job and without the fear that the next day, food would be a dream feeding his mind, rather than sustenance to fuel his body. Yes. Things were different now. It was true, this sort of stability took some getting used to. Even last year when he was probending, things were always up in the air. He missed the rush and excitement but when he thought back about his life then and his life now, he knew he wouldn't go back.
"Any news on today? Anything big going down?" Mako asked. He was hoping for a gang bust or maybe something similarly exciting.
"Nah, things have been quiet lately." The reply left him a little disappointed but he stifled the feeling. Yes, it was just another ordinary day at the office.
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The piercing ringing of the alarm wrenched him from sleep's comforting hold yet again, just as it did every morning. At 6:00 every morning, Mako would throw off the covers, sometimes willingly but more often very, very reluctantly, and begin preparing for a new day. Brush his teeth, wash his face, train for an hour and a half, shower, and then it was off to the station for another day on the job. Sometimes there'd be gang busts and car chases, but most of the time it was just him on patrol. Then, he'd come home, have dinner by himself if Bolin was still at the gym, and get ready for bed. Lather, rinse, repeat.
It was a morning just like any other, ready to bleed into a day that blended in with the day before and the day after, each indeterminate from the others. Or at least that's what Mako thought as he hauled himself out of bed. And it was just an ordinary day as he brushed his teeth, washed his face and carried out his everyday routine. Yes, it was just a normal day as he shrugged on his uniform and headed out the door.
The usual hustle and bustle greeted Mako when he got to the station. He was usually on day shifts now, that's just how things worked out, but he worked nights as well so he was pretty close with everyone who worked in the Republic City precinct.
"Morning, Mako" Jun called out when he saw the firebender walk in. He was only a few years older than Mako, but he'd been in the force long enough to take him under his wing and show him the ropes of how things worked. He was probably the closest friend at work Mako had.
"Morning, Jun" Mako replied with a smile. "The chief in?"
"Nah, she's out right now but she'll probably be by later this afternoon. She's a busy lady." Lin had reassumed her place as the Chief of Police. The already incredible amount of respect he'd had for the woman only increased after he began working with her. She was firm, dedicated, both to the city and her men, and got the job done. It was pretty intimidating, actually. It was funny how different his life had become. For the longest time, he and his brother had been just barely getting by; he'd had to work with slimy guys just to make sure food was on the table. Whether there would be a lot or a little depended on luck. But now, here he was, with a solid job and without the fear that the next day, food would be a dream feeding his mind, rather than sustenance to fuel his body. Yes. Things were different now. It was true, this sort of stability took some getting used to. Even last year when he was probending, things were always up in the air. He missed the rush and excitement but when he thought back about his life then and his life now, he knew he wouldn't go back.
"Any news on today? Anything big going down?" Mako asked. He was hoping for a gang bust or maybe something similarly exciting.
"Nah, things have been quiet lately." The reply left him a little disappointed but he stifled the feeling. Yes, it was just another ordinary day at the office.
"You might want to get started on that paperwork from last week." Jun said, "It's not gonna do itself."
"Yeah, yeah, speak for yourself" Mako replied teasingly, gesturing at his friend's desk which was scattered with even more scrolls and papers than usual.
"Do we have any tea?"
"Yeah, I just brewed a pot. Help yourself, it should still be hot" Jun replied. He gave a half-hearted attempt to organize the clutter on his desk but deemed it a lost cause a few moments in.
Mako helped himself to a steaming cup. The moment the scalding liquid hit his mouth he immediately wanted to spit it out. He forced the tea down his throat and grimaced as he spluttered, "Spirits, Jun! Did you forget to add water or something? This is so strong!"
Jun glanced up from his desk sheepishly, "Oh yeah, sorry! I forgot to warn you. But I need it if I'm going to have any hope of finishing all this paperwork today! I covered Yang's shift last night, so I didn't get much sleep."
Mako laughed as he boiled some water to salvage his tea. "Nah, it's alright. Don't you have a little one on the way? If you think this is bad, you have no idea what you're in for." He remembered when Bolin was born, round, smiley, and the louder than a howler-bat when he cried. His mother used to jokingly lament the dark circles under her eyes, calling herself a ring-tailed lemur. Mako still thought she was beautiful.
"Ugh… don't remind me. I am so not ready for this whole fatherhood business." Jun groaned. "What if I'm a bad dad? What if I screw my kid up for life or something?"
Mako made his way over to his friend and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Jun, come on, relax. If anyone can be an amazing dad, it's you. Confidence, buddy."
"Yeah," Jun sighed, "it's just… pretty daunting to be totally responsible for another human being."
The firebender nodded. He understood all too well the feeling. He settled into his chair and winced at the sight of hefty stack of forms he had to process. It was tedious and not something he was expecting when he joined the police force, but someone had to do it. Let's make this a little more interesting, he thought to himself.
"Yo Jun, I'll bet you won't be able to finish before I do."
"Oh really? You sure about that?"
"Positive."
"Alright, if I win you'll be treating me to all you can eat seaweed noodles. If you win, I'll treat you. Sound like a deal?"
"Deal."
"Alright pretty boy, I'm looking forward to dining on your tab." Jun gave a cheeky grin and threw himself at the the daunting array of papers that littered his desk. Mako could only smile in amusement as he faced his own disheartening collection of paperwork.
By the time Mako had to go out on patrol, neither he nor Jun had finished. They decided to call it a draw and he set out for the his usual route along his district. It wasn't interesting, usually. On occasion he'd stop the occasional speeding car or drive off some cocky gang members up to no good, but usually he'd just ride his motorcycle around the crowded streets of Republic City. It was therapeutic in a way, to ride along the pavement, to feel the wind whipping against his face. It made him feel alive.
It was another quiet day. Nothing outside the usual when suddenly Mako heard angry shouting up the street. Parking his motorbike, he rushed over to the source of the commotion. He was greeted with the sight of a fuming, middle aged woman standing outside what looked to be a modest shop. She was holding a young boy tightly by the wrist. He was scrawny looking and trying desperately to free himself from her grasp. A crowd of onlookers was beginning to form, curious as to what was causing such a ruckus.
"HOW DARE YOU I WILL CALL THE POLICE AND THEY WILL LOC-" The woman stopped her shouting at the sight of the Mako approaching. The scowl on her face dissolved into a simpering smile. "Why hello, officer. I was just about to call. I caught this hoodrat trying to filch my leechi nuts. I can't stand punks like this!"
"Don't worry, Ma'am. I'll handle this." Mako said, but he wasn't looking at the woman. Instead, he peered at the young boy. He had stopped struggling and was looking despondently at the ground. Every so often he would glance up and around. Mako knew from personal experience he was gauging escape routes. The boy's brown russet hued hair was matted and tangled. His face had the distinctive pinch that accompanied a stomach that has long been empty. He reminded Mako of himself.
"Ma'am, you can go ahead inside. I can take it from here." The boy looked up at him. Mako could see uneasiness in his eyes. He tried to give a reassuring smile before returning his attention to the shop keeper. She looked at him suspiciously for a moment before relinquishing her hold on the child. With a huff, she went back into her store.
When her figure disappeared behind the curtained entrance, Mako looked down at the boy. He hadn't tried to run away yet so either he was scared stiff or accustomed to how things went with police officers. Perhaps a little of both. He knelt down so that he and the boy were eye.
"What's your name?"
The child remained silent. He was tense, like an animal caught in a trap.
"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help you. Will you let me try?"
A muffled voice muttered, "My mom told me I shouldn't talk to strangers." The little boy kept his eyes glued firmly at the ground.
Mako let out a chuckle. "Your mom sounds like a pretty smart lady. But I'm always going to be a stranger unless we introduce ourselves. What do you say?"
Amber colored eyes gazed up at him hesitantly. A sullen nod was his only reply. Mako smiled.
"So, are you going to tell me your name?"
"Kuma."
"Hello Kuma, I'm Mako."
"Mako? THE Mako? Mako as in the Captain of the Fire Ferrets?" Kuma's face was flushed with excitement. All previous unease had dissipated away.
"Well, the former captain, but yeah. That's me." Mako said.
"I used to follow all your matches! My dad used to take me and my sis to see you play before…" The gap-toothed grin dissolved into a grim line as Kuma let the sentence trail and disappear.
Mako knew it wasn't his place to pry. "Here, how about we take a walk. Do you live around this neighborhood? Why don't you show me around? I patrol around here and I'm sure I could get to know the area a little better."
"Sure." The spark, quick as it had come, had vanished.
They set off at a leisurely pace, combing the back streets of the neighborhood. Occasionally, Kuma would point out a building or person, but they were both mostly quiet. Mako noticed the boy hesitate outside the custard tart stall. He pretended he didn't hear the clear growl of the child's stomach.
"Whoo, this walk has got me starving." He said to no one particular. "All I've had today is some over-steeped tea. I think I could use a little pick me up. Care to join me?" He gestured over to the stall. Kuma shook his head.
"I don't have any money."
Mako brushed it off. "It'll be on me this time. Next time, you can treat. Deal?"
The boy's stomach gave another audible rumble as if to entreaty its owner. Kuma sighed a moment before shrugging his slight shoulders.
"Deal."
The two approached the glass cases of the sweet shop. Confections of all shapes and sizes were arrayed before their eyes. A round, sweet looking woman called out from the cash register.
"Hello there, sirs! Can I help you fine gentlemen this evening?"
"Hello ma'am, I'd like a moon peach pie please and…"
He glanced down at his companion.
"An egg custard tart, please."
"And an egg custard tart!"
"Certainly, sir. That will be 1.5 yuans" The woman said with a pleasant smile. She set the requested treats on delicate napkins and handed them to the two. Mako paid and he and Kuma headed back out on the street. They settled on the curb of the road, watching the cars speeding and swerving by. Mako savored the tart sweetness of his cake when he noticed Kuma hadn't taken a bite.
"Hey, you haven't touched your tart. Something wrong?"
"I'm saving it for my sister."
"Does she like them?"
Kuma nodded.
"They were her favorite snack. She doesn't get to eat them much anymore."
"Ah, I see." Mako said. "That's awfully nice of you."
The child didn't reply. His eyes followed the cars rushing by, the tart clasped tightly in his hands. Mako was just about to finish his tart when the boy broke the silence.
"My dad got fired a while ago. Some people say he got into trouble with Red Monsoon Triad but my dad's not that kind of person. He's been looking for a job but he's not a bender so it's hard finding work. He's usually not around since he's gotta go out to the farms to find jobs."
"Is that why you…"
The boy nodded, casting his eyes to the pavement.
"We don't have much money. And my sister's always hungry…"
"What about your mother?"
"She died."
"I'm sorry."
"'S alright. There's nothing you can do about it."
He looked tired. Tired and weary. Mako felt a dull ache of empathy as he recognized the expression.
"Hey, this doesn't have to be your life. I know things might seem rough, even hopeless right now, but you can change things. And I know that stealing might seem like it's the only way out, but it's not. I've seen the people in your neighborhood, those people who call out to you? Who ask you how you are? They want to help you."
Kuma looked at him skeptically.
Mako smiled. He knew he would have been the same way if he had been hearing this speech years ago.
"You know, I used to be in your shoes. For a while, I didn't have much. All I had was my brother. I did some stuff I'm not proud of just to scrape by. I thought it was me against the world, but it's not. There might be people in this world who are bitter and angry, but there are also people who are amazing like you couldn't imagine. The kinds of people you think couldn't possibly be real. But they are. And I know it might be hard to believe when you're hungry and everyone is looking at you like you're trash, like you're worthless, but trust me, you're going to find someone who believes in you. And you're gonna become more than this."
He glanced down at Kamu, a smile on his face. The boy had a pensive look.
"But you and I are different, Mr. Mako. I'm not a bender, I'm not much of anything."
The image of a raven-haired girl flashed in Mako's mind.
"That doesn't mean a thing. One of the strongest people I know can't bend. She didn't let that stop her and neither should you. I'll admit, I was pretty lucky. Someone found me and believed in me enough to give me a chance. Now, I have a hunch about you. I think you could turn into something great. At what? I'm not sure, but I'm positive there's something there. I'm willing to give you a chance, but that doesn't mean a thing if you can't do something for me."
Kuma's eyes widened in confusion.
"What?"
"You have to believe in yourself. Everyone in the world can be behind you but it doesn't mean anything unless you believe it yourself. So can you do that for me?"
A grin slowly eased its way across the boy's face. He nodded, slowly at first but it got quicker and quicker, as if propelled by the child's growing conviction.
Mako smiled.
"Good. It's getting late. Let's get you home."
The two made their way to Kuma's humble shelter. Mako could tell just from looking at it that it leaked and was probably cold at night. He felt a pang of guilt leaving him there. He had to figure out a plan. He knelt in front of the boy as he dropped him off.
"Alright, I'm going to go now. But I'll be back soon. No more stealing, okay?"
Kuma nodded energetically. The egg custard was still safe in his hands.
"Yeah, no more stealing."
The two parted ways and Mako headed home on his motorbike. It was a long day and he got back later than usual. But he felt lighter somehow, more excited than he had in ages. He had found a new purpose.
Bolin had waited for him for dinner. Mako served himself a bowl of noodles before settling down next to his brother at the table.
"How was your day?" His Bolin asked. He always asked, always made sure things were going alright, even when they were little when there were more bad days than good. It was part of the reason he loved him so much.
Summary: Korra attends Kya's art show and sees her mentors in a new light.
Notes: Makorra and Linzin. I feel like Kya's character is the one I'm most excited to learn more about in Season 2.
Excerpt:
"That's...interesting?" Mako whispered to Korra as they studied one of Kya's paintings curiously. A small laugh escaped Korra's lips, she didn't quite understand the concept of this particular piece which seemed to be a smattering of internal organs and industrial equipment woven together to form the silhouette of two koi fish circling one another.
"It's meant to be a commentary on how industrialization is destroying the balance of our world," Kya provided from behind the couple. Their faces flushed with embarrassment immediately.
"Kya! I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were right there," Korra responded awkwardly biting her lip and shrugging one shoulder. The waterbender smiled serenely. Mako continued to look around the gallery with feigned interest.
"It's ok, Korra. Art is a personal thing. You don't have to like it all," Kya replied.
"Hmm, I think I'm going to grab something to eat," Mako explained as he made an uncomfortable exit. Kya gave him an unaffected smile as he passed before returning her attention to Korra.
"I guess I'm not much of a painting girl," Korra offered with another shrug. Kya seemed to be a prolific artist in all forms- on display were various sculptures, photographs, paintings, carvings and sketches. Looking around the room at a collection of Kya's art, Korra identified her favorite medium as photography. "I do like your pictures," she explained.
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"That's...interesting?" Mako whispered to Korra as they studied one of Kya's paintings curiously. A small laugh escaped Korra's lips, she didn't quite understand the concept of this particular piece which seemed to be a smattering of internal organs and industrial equipment woven together to form the silhouette of two koi fish circling one another.
"It's meant to be a commentary on how industrialization is destroying the balance of our world," Kya provided from behind the couple. Their faces flushed with embarrassment immediately.
"Kya! I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were right there," Korra responded awkwardly biting her lip and shrugging one shoulder. The waterbender smiled serenely. Mako continued to look around the gallery with feigned interest.
"It's ok, Korra. Art is a personal thing. You don't have to like it all," Kya replied.
"Hmm, I think I'm going to grab something to eat," Mako explained as he made an uncomfortable exit. Kya gave him an unaffected smile as he passed before returning her attention to Korra.
"I guess I'm not much of a painting girl," Korra offered with another shrug. Kya seemed to be a prolific artist in all forms- on display were various sculptures, photographs, paintings, carvings and sketches. Looking around the room at a collection of Kya's art, Korra identified her favorite medium as photography. "I do like your pictures," she explained.
Kya gave a knowing nod, "They are a little more relatable, aren't they? I think the wonderful thing about photography is that in art, we are create the beautiful things we want to see, but in photography we must take something that exists in our daily lives and find the beauty inside of it. Identifying that is what makes it art."
Korra nodded mostly out of politeness. Slowly, she made her way to the photos and began inspecting each one carefully. There were several scenes of nature, a beautifully executed image of sandbenders looking windswept and desperate, scenes of Republic City that go unnoticed like one of the ferry boat operator on the dock, the skyline blurred behind him. The one that caught Korra's attention, however, was of a young couple. The two lovers were standing on a small hill, a blanket wrapped around them both. They appeared to be at some sort of event, an outdoor music festival by the looks of it. They were surrounded by hundreds of faceless people, dotting the landscape. They faced one another, noses almost touching. The man had a shock of messy dark hair running along the center of his head, the woman had long dark curls cascading behind her down the blanket. He was handsome, she was beautiful. They were young and in love. Korra smiled at the image.
"That is one of my first photos," Kya explained as she watched Korra. The thing that spoke to Korra most in this picture was the look that passed between the couple. The background was not blurred, but it may as well have been. The two people were wrapped together completely separate from the surrounding world looking at one another with such love that Korra's heart rate increased. It was obvious these two were the only thing that mattered to each other. She sighed.
"This one is so romantic. I can only hope Mako looks at me with this much love," Korra remarked absently.
"Do you recognize them?" Kya asked with a smile.
Korra's eyebrows knitted together as she squinted at the couple, trying to place where she might know them from. She looked back at Kya questioningly.
"Are they famous?"
"No," Kya laughed. Korra focused on the picture again, chewing her lip in concentration.
"No clue," she finally admitted.
"You don't recognize Tenzin without the arrows?" Kya asked, raising one eyebrow playfully. Korra's jaw dropped open as her eyes went wide. She swung her face back at the photo and inspected in intently.
"That is Tenzin?" she exclaimed.
"And Lin," Kya finished. Korra gasped in surprise, examining the photo again. Knowing their identities now, Korra could see them clearly. She wondered for a moment how she could have missed Beifong's telltale cheekbones in the first place. Their features were all basically the same, but the look on their faces had thrown her. Korra had never seen either of them look quite so soft before, so unassuming.
"I couldn't recognize Beifong without the scowl," Korra commented seriously, eyes glued to the photo. Kya let out a laugh she didn't know was coming, causing a few people to look her way.
"Oh Lin..." she remarked quietly amused, shaking her head wistfully.
Korra continued to study the photo. She felt as if she were truly seeing Tenzin as a person for the first time. She found herself fascinated by this side of her mentor. Though she knew of his past relationship with Chief Beifong, she had never really considered them fully. She surmised that they must have been together a long time and they were certainly in love- more so than she would have previously fathomed. The longer she stared, the sadder she felt. She wondered what could have happened to this happy couple that turned them into the people she knew today. Moments ago, she was jealous of their loving gaze. Now, with their identities revealed she simply felt sorry for them.
"Its quite old, but still one of my favorites," Kya explained, "they just look so in love."
Korra nodded sadly as Kya spotted a friend across the room. The older woman departed Korra's side with a smile and a quick pat on the shoulder.
Standing alone amongst the photos, Korra tore her gaze away from the picture, "I guess looks aren't everything," she said to herself in a whisper.
Summary: Naga rescues Bolin after an Equalist attack
Notes: Mild Borra. Also, third slack-tension story today, which I didn't realize until after I was messing with the queue. He/she's just that good, guys.
Excerpt:
He doesn’t even have to open his eyes - he’s not too sure if he could, anyway - to tell what the dull thumps and muffled shouts are. Since his eardrums popped with that last explosion, everything sounds as if his head is underwater. Once, as kids, he and Mako went swimming in the harbor, even though now he knows they used it for a bath, and for fun he tried to talk underwater. He and his brother would submerge at the same time, one of them would shout a word, and the other would try to figure it out.
It’s an apt analogy, he thinks. His hair is plastered to his head and wet, but with blood and sweat rather than salty ocean water. His entire body is wet in most places, again with the sweat and most of his own blood, and he can’t stop shaking. He wonders that if Mako were there to see him now, he would say he swam too long - he’s shivering and his lips are probably purple with cold.
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He doesn’t even have to open his eyes - he’s not too sure if he could, anyway - to tell what the dull thumps and muffled shouts are. Since his eardrums popped with that last explosion, everything sounds as if his head is underwater. Once, as kids, he and Mako went swimming in the harbor, even though now he knows they used it for a bath, and for fun he tried to talk underwater. He and his brother would submerge at the same time, one of them would shout a word, and the other would try to figure it out.
It’s an apt analogy, he thinks. His hair is plastered to his head and wet, but with blood and sweat rather than salty ocean water. His entire body is wet in most places, again with the sweat and most of his own blood, and he can’t stop shaking. He wonders that if Mako were there to see him now, he would say he swam too long - he’s shivering and his lips are probably purple with cold.
It’s only when Naga appears, cold wet nose bumping against his arm, that he realizes he’s been drifting off into the fictional waters of Yue Bay in his mind. The whines Naga emits are just audible, and they tug at his heart. He hates seeing anyone upset, especially animals. He lifts his hand blindly and his palm manages to smack against her muzzle, and because it’s him Naga doesn’t mind. He rubs the soft velvet above her nose and he tries to talk, but even he can tell the words spill from his mouth like childish babble. Naga seems to like it, though, because the next thing he knows, her face is digging into his side. When she flips him over onto his back, he remembers his injuries.
“Ah, Naga,” he says, wincing as Naga tries to lift his body onto her head. The words don’t feel as if they’re coming from his mouth. “Slow down, just let me…let me rest for a bit.”
He doesn’t have anything else to do. He did his job, his duty, and for the first time it didn’t go very well. He took the mission to dismantle spare Equalist mechatanks all on his own. No one is around to see him no save for a polar bear dog, and no one was around to save him this time. He should’ve known better. When he’s alone, he has terrible luck.
It was supposed to be easy and simple. The war’s been over for three days and now they’re going through the city bit by bit, taking away Amon’s fingerprints. Korra works through glowing eyes and thumbs to the forehead and breastplate, and now Bolin through bending and, he thinks regretfully, violence.
Naga is persistent. She manages to leverage her head under his body and lift him until he’s resting his weight on his knees, which hurts and shoots daggers of pain up to his thighs. Bolin starts to slip off of her and return to the calm of lying on the floor, but Naga starts whining again. He hates it, hates the way he knows he’s making someone feel terrible on his behalf. Even if it’s just Naga.
“What do you want, girl?” he mutters, more tired than concerned.
With a few jerks of her head and more muffled whines, he realizes she wants him to ride her. As much as he doesn’t want to move, he can’t listen to her pain anymore. He manages to shuffle across her side and pull himself up despite the break he knows he has in his forearm, and the odd grinding his right shoulder emits every time he moves it.
Her saddle manags to fit the length of his body, arms and legs dangling over the side, but it was just as comfy as the floor had been. His mind seems to shut off the second he is situated and Naga starts walking, and it feels like he is drifting out of the warehouse on a cloud. He shuts his eyes just as they trot past a pile of mechtanks, one with an equalist body spilling out of the hatch, bloody and lifeless.
He’d done his job. Now he just wants to sink to the bottom of the ocean and lie there.
—-
When he wakes up, he’s cold again. He’s shivering and his body should ache, but instead he feels like he’s floating. Not in a weightless sense, but again, like he’s submerged in water and he’s letting his body slack and drift. Arms and legs extended with a cool weight pressing in all around him, shifting with the currents and not knowing where his body ends and the water begins.
But he’s breathing. The soft rustle of blankets comes from his left ear, and he’s not sure if it really is blankets, or if his ears are still broken. He’s not underwater even though he feels like it, and it takes a lot of courage for him to open his eyes, bracing himself for the sting of salt water but it never comes.
He does see blue.
Blue eyes a more pure shade than the slightly polluted waters of Yue Bay. Teeth popping out from behind her lips, white and blinding, like the sun reflecting off the surface of the bay. And there is salt water, he realizes, slipping from her eyes and down her face even though she’s smiling, but she’s always been full of contradictions, so he’s not about to question it now.
“How are you?” she says, voice clear.
He smiles. “Good. How are you?”
She chokes on a forced laugh, and he’s heartbroken as he watches her face twist up, leaning her elbows on his mattress to bury her face in her hands. He’s never seen her cry, not really, but it’s more terrible than Naga’s whines because he doesn’t really know what’s wrong. All he wants is to slip back into the ocean and settle on the floor, because he’s always been far too solid to be very good at swimming. He’s tired of treading water and all he wants is to give into his nature and sink.
But he also doesn’t want to leave Korra.
He wonders if the two wants are mutually exclusive, given his nature, given hers.
“You were gone for so long,” she says, shoulders jerking and tears sliding down the insides of her wrists. “We - I missed you so much.”
“I’m back,” he says.
She lifts up her face and stares at him wide eyed.
It goes unspoken that he’s there to stay. It’s in his nature to not so much be rooted, but immovable, even when drowning feels more appealing than living right now.
She slowly smiles, and it’s weak, but it’s something. Her hand clasps over his, and suddenly he’s made aware of his broken fingers, bloody and bruised knuckles, but he doesn’t mind because her palm is cool and rough. She leans forward and when she goes to kiss his forehead, her hair spills from her shoulders, enclosing him in a world that exists only of Korra - deep blues and browns and the smell of the ocean, cool and refreshing and dark when he needs it the most.
He shuts his eyes and keeps breathing.
Summary: Korra shows Tenzin a new airbending trick
Notes: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang
Excerpt:
"Come on, Tenzin, please?"
Sighing heavily, Tenzin stopped in his tracks; Korra, who had been walking nearly on his heels to keep up with his long strides, ran into his back, retreating as he turned to face her.
"Korra…"
"Please, Tenzin," she said. "It's Asami's birthday and we all wanted to go out and do something special for her after – y'know, everything with her father – please."
He stared down at her and she looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading, fists clenched, ready, it seemed, to get down on her knees and beg if need be. Still, it wouldn't do to cave in so easily…
"You knew that you had training," he said, only managing to sound mildly irritated. "Why didn't you ask me about this sooner?"
"I meant to, I swear, but I kept forgetting – and I've made a lot of progress, you said so yourself – look, I even made up this cool trick."
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"Come on, Tenzin, please?"
Sighing heavily, Tenzin stopped in his tracks; Korra, who had been walking nearly on his heels to keep up with his long strides, ran into his back, retreating as he turned to face her.
"Korra…"
"Please, Tenzin," she said. "It's Asami's birthday and we all wanted to go out and do something special for her after – y'know, everything with her father – please."
He stared down at her and she looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading, fists clenched, ready, it seemed, to get down on her knees and beg if need be. Still, it wouldn't do to cave in so easily…
"You knew that you had training," he said, only managing to sound mildly irritated. "Why didn't you ask me about this sooner?"
"I meant to, I swear, but I kept forgetting – and I've made a lot of progress, you said so yourself – look, I even made up this cool trick."
Korra reached into her pocket and withdrew a handful of small stones and then, somehow, impossibly, she moved one hand to hover above the other and, with the help of her airbending, the stones spun in a controlled circle, contained within the space between her palms. The wide, exaggerated baring of her teeth that would normally be called a grin and was meant to persuade him, coupled with the way she lifted her eyebrows as the pebbles went around and around, made Tenzin's heart seize.
He cleared his throat and had to remind himself to breathe (in through your nose, out through your mouth – straighten your back a little bit – good. Now, close your eyes). "You didn't," he muttered, not really meaning for her to hear, and he cut himself off before he could say anything more.
He gripped Korra's shoulder perhaps a bit too tightly; she caught the stones and curled her hand around them, waiting.
"All right," he said, and was rewarded by her genuine smile, eyes lighting up. "You may skip your airbending training for today – but today only, and I'm adding another hour to tomorrow's session."
Korra hugged him for so brief a moment that Tenzin couldn't even consider wrapping his arms around her in return. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said, and before he knew it she was running off toward the bay and calling to him over her shoulder, "I'll make it up to you, I promise!"
He sighed again, shook his head, tugged on his beard, closed his eyes for a moment – inhale, exhale – when he opened them again the top of his father's head was just visible in the distance. Wiping at dry eyes, he decided Pema could always use his help with Rohan now that he had some time to spare. On the way back to the house he stooped to collect several pebbles, and he swirled them between his hands as he walked, the same way his father had taught him.
Summary: Drabble about Mako, Bolin, and Asami integrating into the Souther Water Tribe
Notes: Mako centric, and now I want this kind of story to be the first episode of Book 2
Excerpt:
He’s slightly grateful that the meeting of her parents is tragic; he doesn’t want the attention taken from her, especially when Korra had said she was excited to see them after so many months. It was the first time she sounded optimistic since defeating Amon.
He had expected her to rush off the ship they had arrived on with Naga in tow, flinging herself into the arms of her parents and whatever large welcoming committee that he had no doubt would collect on the dock. He envisioned the entire Order of the White Lotus arriving to accept her back to her homeland, with more people from her village and tribe to make it feel more sincere. Their Avatar was returning broken, but she was still theirs.
Instead when they walk to the exit of the ship, it’s just one man and two women, one old and frail, standing before the group of people they already know. Tenzin, his family, and Lin had arrived before them by flying bison.
Mako’s hand grips onto Korra’s shoulder and she shudders out a sigh. She looks tired.
He realizes that this is everyone.
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He’s slightly grateful that the meeting of her parents is tragic; he doesn’t want the attention taken from her, especially when Korra had said she was excited to see them after so many months. It was the first time she sounded optimistic since defeating Amon.
He had expected her to rush off the ship they had arrived on with Naga in tow, flinging herself into the arms of her parents and whatever large welcoming committee that he had no doubt would collect on the dock. He envisioned the entire Order of the White Lotus arriving to accept her back to her homeland, with more people from her village and tribe to make it feel more sincere. Their Avatar was returning broken, but she was still theirs.
Instead when they walk to the exit of the ship, it’s just one man and two women, one old and frail, standing before the group of people they already know. Tenzin, his family, and Lin had arrived before them by flying bison.
Mako’s hand grips onto Korra’s shoulder and she shudders out a sigh. She looks tired.
He realizes that this is everyone.
—-
He doesn’t know much about parents, but he’s sure they should be comforting her, not the other way around.
He stares as Korra wraps herself around her mother, the pair of them nearly identical, while her father curves around both women protectively. Her mother is shaking while her father starts unabashedly crying into his daughter’s hair, fat tears spilling down his cheeks while his throat tenses.
Korra holds herself together, wiping away her parents’ tears with her thumbs. When she moves to greet the older woman, he notices the slope in her shoulders and wonders if now is the time she’ll break. She had cried against him once, loud and wailing for a long time the night they had reclaimed Air Temple Island. If she can cry for him, he sees no reason for her to put on a brave face for her family.
The old woman holds Korra as if expecting her to start sobbing, smoothing her hands over Korra’s back in a practiced way, like she’s done it a thousand times before and doesn’t mind doing it again. But Korra doesn’t give.
—-
Korra’s mother is slightly shorter than her, hair thicker and eyes a different shade blue. Mako extends his hand when he notices her walking towards him, expecting a formal greeting of tight nods and quiet words. Something similar to a funeral.
Instead she reaches up to wrap her arms around his shoulders, holding him so tight that the air is forced from his lungs. He freezes instantly and wonders what he should do until her hand starts to rub his back. Under normal circumstances he would be embarrassed, but he hasn’t been hugged by a mother in years. He has to bend his knees in order to comfortably hug her back, and he props his chin against her shoulder. The fur of her collar warms and tickles his skin.
He sees Bolin greeting Lin Beifong. He shows all his empathy with the slight movements of his hands as he talks, the way his shoulder bow and eyebrows are tipped together. Lin still wears her police uniform. Her eyes start blinking rapidly at his brother’s words and she places a hand on his shoulder, shutting her eyes and nodding.
Asami is talking to Korra’s father. He’s a large man, intimidatingly so, but as he smiles to greet his daughter’s friend, tears keep falling from his eyes. Asami’s lip trembles at the sight, and suddenly, his arms are open and she gives. She buries her face into the thick warmth of his coat and shakes with tears, the pair of them trying to console each other for what they’ve lost.
“I’m Senna,” Korra’s mother says, jarring him from his thoughts. “Are you Mako?”
He realizes this woman just hugged him with no questions, not even knowing his name. He hasn’t felt love this instantaneous and without conditions for as long as he can remember.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She pulls away and starts brushing the tears from her cheeks with her gloves. She smiles up at him. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
—-
When Senna turns to greet Asami, his brother is by his side to meet Korra’s father.
He’s terrified.
He’s never seen a grown man cry before, not like this - Mako is accustomed to Bolin’s outbursts, he’s seen Triad members cry in pain - but this is the type of sobbing that is supposed to happen in private. Her father just lets the tears flow and he snorts more than sniffles, dragging the back of his gloved hand under his nose. Korra might look like her mother, but she inherited her presence from her father.
“I’ve heard a lot about you boys,” he says, voice far more gentle than either of them expected. “Thank you for keeping my daughter safe. I’m Tonraq.”
“She’s done a better job at keep us safe, sir,” Bolin says instantly.
Tonraq’s mouth forms a wavy line, ends curling down as if to bite back more tears. He places one hand on each of their shoulders until their knees buckle under their force and weight. He looks them both in the eye before drawing them all together in a hug.
—-
He doesn’t know where he fits into Korra’s family, but he knows now more than ever that he needs to find out. The fact that the door is open from where he left it is the farthest thing from his mind when he tells her he loves her.
He was so sure it was what she needed to hear.
—-
When they walk back to the compound, she’s in this odd state of calm that washes over her with each relieved sigh. They could ride Naga back, but instead they just walk, her falling against his side while he leans against Naga to hold onto her saddle. Even though they just kissed and admitted their feelings for one another, he still has to work up courage to wrap his arm around her waist.
She talks quietly about what happened, what he wasn’t able to see. Thousands of different lives lined before her, her lives.
“It was like looking in a mirror after getting your hair cut,” she explains. “It’s you, but you look different.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
He knows he won’t ever understand and he doesn’t really care to. He understands Korra just fine, and he isn’t in love with all her past lives. It’s just this one that’s special.
When the compound comes back into view, nervousness starts to spike in his chest.
Korra’s back to normal.
Everything will go back to normal.
He’s about to meet her family at their best and brightest in a few minutes, he won’t have to see her parents crying or Master Katara looking frail and weak, or the rest of Korra’s family quiet and downtrodden.
He gets the feeling that he’s about to walk into something wholly unprepared but Korra’s arm snakes around his waist to tuck her hand into his coat pocket. He hopes for the best.
—-
When they walk into the house smiling, everyone is rightfully confused. Korra breaks from his side and he watches her bombard Lin with the good news.
As they all walk to the small temple, Katara is at his side. They’re quiet and listen to Korra talking to Tenzin and Lin, who are both still reserved about these new abilities she claims to have.
“They should believe her,” Katara says with amusement.
She’s the only one smiling as they walk. Everyone else is too scared to hope, but Mako trusts Korra and nods back.
“I saw her. She can do this,” he says.
Katara looks up at him with a sad smile. It catches him off guard and he panics, wonders what he did wrong, but she holds onto his arm for support as they walk.
“You will be good for her. I trust you.”
He doesn’t know what it means but he has the feeling she’s given him something she has carried for a long time.
—-
After Lin’s bending is restored, and after Korra’s mother declares it’s time for a party, Tonraq finds him.
Mako instantly agreed to help prepare the food, to make himself useful while Korra and Lin keep lobbing rocks at each other. Lin is at least more discrete and simply asks for a sparring match with anyone, while Korra makes clay cups fly through the air, sets pieces of paper and kindling twigs on fire, and refuses to drink in anyway other than bending the water to her mouth. It’s loud in the main room, but Mako likes working to the sound as he stands at a counter, gutting fish.
Tonraq sneaks up on him somehow by slamming a clay cup onto the counter at his side. It’s full of a clear liquid and Mako jumps, knife flipping down in his hand instinctually, ready to stab, before he realizes who it is.
“Have a drink,” Tonraq says with a grin. His eyes flick down to the knife in Mako’s hand and Mako quickly drops it against the counter. “I brewed it myself.”
Mako’s throat runs dry and he knows the last thing he needs is to start drinking, but he does it anyway. It burns down his throat but is followed up with a cool dryness, like sucking in the freezing air outside on the tundra.
“So, you’re in love with my daughter.”
“W-well, I -”
Tonraq laughs and claps his hand on his shoulder again, and Mako wonders if he’ll have to get used to that gesture. “Relax, son. Senna knew she liked you but…,” Tonraq shakes his head. “Well, it is a bit of a shock, but I guess we’ll get used to each other. Drink up!”
He tips more liquor into Mako’s cup, still in his hand, and slaps him on the back before walking out of the kitchen.
—-
Senna marches in moments later with a basket full of black, thick seaweed, laughing.
“My husband is already calling you son,” she says, setting the basket on the kitchen table. Before Mako can make an ass of himself in response, she keeps talking. “Where did you learn how to clean a fish?”
Mako pauses for a second, watching the knife in his hand carve along the underbelly of the fish, careful to not puncture any organs to spill bile. “I had an old job back home.”
“Old? You’re a teenager!” she laughs.
Mako forces a weak smile and realizes this is the first moment out of what he’s sure will be many where her and her husband will notice he and Bolin are different.
It’s a good thing he’s a decent liar.
“I’ve had a lot of jobs,” he says.
—-
Asami and Bolin are better at integrating into the family than he is. Mako stays in the kitchen for the most part, hands covered in fish scales, listening to Senna singing under her breath. People keep walking in and out to help until some new commotion picks up in the main room, and they drift back to the rest of the party.
Mako is better at playing the part of a helper. He holds his carving knife high out of Ikki’s reach when she zips into the room, wanting to help. He distracts Jinora when she tries to fold some meat into seaweed wraps by asking her about her favorite books, as she folds them wrong. When Katara stands in the kitchen to talk to Senna, he notices the way she leans against the table for support, and silently leaves the room to come back with a chair. He places it near Senna and returns to his work, and seconds later Katara is comfortably seated.
Asami drinks everything Tonraq puts in her cup, and soon she’s a mess of giggles while he and Korra try to teach her traditional drinking songs. She is ready to forget her father and accept these new people in her life, at least for tonight, when spirits are running high.
Bolin is ready to learn everything there is to learn about the Water Tribes from Master Katara. Like everyone else he comes into contact with, the older woman takes an instant liking to him. He makes her laugh with everything he says, and she even makes a familial connection, saying that he reminds her of Councilman Sokka.
—-
They aren’t perfect, though.
He watches Bolin’s hand stuffed with seal jerky slip into his pocket at the dinner table. Mako says nothing about it.
When Tonraq’s arm bumps his while he’s eating, Mako jerks, instinctively grabs his plate and shelters his food close to his chest. Tonraq stops talking to Senna and the pair of them collectively stare at Mako, and he beats himself up mentally for his animalistic behavior. No one here will take his food.
Korra’s hand wraps around his arm comfortingly, though he doubts she understands, but it calms him anyway. He sets the plate back down on the table and mutters out an apology, avoiding what he assumes must be judgmental gazes.
That night when he goes to the shared bedroom he has with Bolin, his little brother doesn’t hide the way he takes his stolen food and stores it among his blankets. Bolin still doesn’t understand that the food here won’t disappear or be stolen, nor does he seem to care. It’s habits like these that make them outsiders and now more than ever Mako wishes he had a normal childhood.
—-
When he crawls into Korra’s bed late at night, desperate and needy for her love and attention, he tells her everything.
It’s a warning, really. He’s trying to let her know that he’s not worth it and she can still back out, she can take back the I love you’s and he will understand. How an orphan with a criminal record as long as his managed to win the Avatar’s love is beyond him.
Each time he tells her something new, she cards her fingers through his hair, and presses a kiss to the center of his forehead.
His throat is tight and he hides his face in the curve of her neck, spilling secrets as his lips move against her skin, pressing the words there through sound and touch. She needs to know, he needs to have someone understand. He never wants to sleep outside again for the rest of his life, he doesn’t trust banks or the police, he’s possessive about food. There’s a member of the Agni Kais still walking the streets of Republic City with a scar over the left side of his face where Mako burned him. He still stitches the lining of his coats with what little money he has saved because that’s the only way he knows how to keep it safe.
She slips her hand under his ratty tank top to place her palm at his chest, and presses her lips to his forehead for a lingering moment. It’s similar to how she’s going to heal the world, but it’s more intimate, and most importantly, just for him.
—-
He has no intention of baring himself like that to anyone else in the world. His secrets are his, and he doesn’t want pity. He still thinks he and Bolin and Asami can slip into Korra’s family without questions.
But Senna walks into the living room with a basket on her hip, collecting the bedding from the rooms, and in her hand is a mixed wad of spare yuans and seal jerky.
He watches panicked anger flash in Bolin’s eyes at the sight of something that is theirs taken from them, but it dies quickly to morph into guilt. Mako stands and collects the money, says that he misplaced it, and that the food is from a midnight snack. Senna doesn’t verbally question it.
—-
After that, they know. Korra must have told them something, because now they can’t stop giving things to him, his brother, and Asami.
There’s more food at every meal. There’s more blankets, and Senna no longer takes their bedding herself. She asks for his and Bolin’s coats, and not knowing the reason why, Mako complies. When she returns it there’s a pocket sewn on the inside, the perfect place to stash money. Then, two days later and there’s brand new coats on each of their beds.
Tonraq teaches them all Water Tribe customs. He brings Mako and Bolin on a hunting trip, shows them how to tie knots, how to fish through the ice. He’s loud and full of smiles and keeps calling them both son. He laughs and slaps Bolin on the back when he agrees that the head is one of the best parts of eating a fish.
“Yeah, Mako used to work at the docks when he was fourteen, and his boss would give us the buckets of fish heads to eat,” Bolin explains, concentrating on pushing line through a hook. “It was all we had to eat for so long! I guess that’s why I like it so much.”
Tonraq is quiet after that, not knowing what to say.
Mako cringes inwardly and is reminded of all those offhand comments Asami still makes about her father. It’s hard to be candid among people that aren’t outsiders.
—-
By the time they have to return to Republic City, Mako is starting to lose hope. There’s been so many more mistakes, so many silent moments, that he’s sure he’s far too broken to be considered as potential family.
But when they go to leave, both of Korra’s parents engulf him in a hug at the same time. There’s been many hugs these past few days and he’s starting to get a better reaction from them, so after the shock wears off his arms cling around them both.
He likes that Tonraq is tall. It makes him feel young and protected.
He likes that Senna still holds him with an iron grip. She’s never going to let go, just like his own mother.
—-
Bolin lifts Senna in a hug enthusiastically, and she laughs while she scolds him to put her down. He has to bend in order to take in her embrace, and she’s whispering something in his ear that makes his green eyes water and blink.
In retaliation for lifting his wife, Tonraq pulls Bolin up in his hug. Everyone laughs and the goodbyes aren’t too hard anymore.
Asami silently cries when Senna holds her face in her hands, again saying sweet things before hugging her. She gets a lighter hug, with hands patting her jerking shoulders, because Senna knows it’s what she needs.
With Tonraq, Asami does start crying in earnest, because she’s going to miss this man who replaced her father so quickly. He tells her not to cry because he’ll start crying, and just like his own daughter, she punches him in the arm before snorting with a laugh and falling into a hug.
—-
They board their ship and three people enthusiastically wave them off even as the snow falls and the winds howl. They’re not going to leave the dock until the ship disappears.
Korra leans against the railing next to him as they wave to her parents and Katara.
“It’s cold. They should go inside,” he says. They don’t have to brave the weather on their behalf; especially not his.
She rolls her eyes and bumps their shoulders together. “You wouldn’t. Neither will they.”
Notes: Shadowboxing is, essentially, to spar with an imaginary opponent
Excerpt:
i.
He is four when he falls in love for the first time.
It's November and his first flame burns bright in his hand, a fragile existence of gold and sparks even against the year's first snowfall.
He thinks it's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen.
Mako is four when he falls in love with fire.
ii.
His mother tells him that fire is life itself, and so Mako lets the flares dance and sluice across his palm, tattooing a heartbeat against his pulse.
It never occurs to him that those who play with flames always get burned.
iii.
Mako is eight when the fire takes his parents.
iv.
He doesn't remember much from that night, or perhaps he chooses not to.
Either way, Mako only recalls in quick glimpses and flashes of his mother's arm pushing him back into the shadows, of his father's strong back as it bursts to flames, of the acrid smell of death.
But in the light of day, these memories thin and dissipate into the wind like smoke, for which Mako is ever thankful.
.
Night brings about a whole other world of terrors.
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i.
He is four when he falls in love for the first time.
It's November and his first flame burns bright in his hand, a fragile existence of gold and sparks even against the year's first snowfall.
He thinks it's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen.
Mako is four when he falls in love with fire.
ii.
His mother tells him that fire is life itself, and so Mako lets the flares dance and sluice across his palm, tattooing a heartbeat against his pulse.
It never occurs to him that those who play with flames always get burned.
iii.
Mako is eight when the fire takes his parents.
iv.
He doesn't remember much from that night, or perhaps he chooses not to.
Either way, Mako only recalls in quick glimpses and flashes of his mother's arm pushing him back into the shadows, of his father's strong back as it bursts to flames, of the acrid smell of death.
But in the light of day, these memories thin and dissipate into the wind like smoke, for which Mako is ever thankful.
.
Night brings about a whole other world of terrors.
He wakes to his mother's scream ringing in his ears and the taste of iron on his lips from biting his cheek in his sleep.
The nightmares are cruelly vivid, as if to compensate for the relative peace of his waking hours. Mako hears the quiet finality of bodies hitting the ground hundreds of times over, sees the scarlet red of his father's scarf against black ashes thousands of times over, and relives the same memories millions of times over.
Yet, the punishment is still not enough.
Mako knows, because the nightmares make him remember.
(He's screaming, but no sound leaves his mouth; he's got fire in his hands, but it's the same as the flames that sets his mother ablaze, and just like that, he's left cold and empty.)
Mako knows he tried, but in the end, all fire is the same, and in the end, trying wasn't enough.
(He could only watch them burn, and in the end, that's all that really matters.)
v.
In their first winter, Bolin falls sick.
Mako hasn't tried to bend since the fateful night; however, watching Bolin slip away into the cold is more than enough to cut through his layers of guilt and self-loathe.
But in spite of ironclad determination, in spite of his burning will to live, the flames Mako tries to summon for heat always flicker and die in the palm of his hand, searing smooth skin in its wake.
The first time he's burned, he screams out of shock more than pain. Then, in denial, he tries once more, this time fingers and mind wrestling with the blaze until his palms run red, black spots dancing across his eyes. And when reality finally sinks in, it shatters his mind until it hurts to breathe.
(The first time he's burned, Mako cries because he finally understands the true meaning of betrayal.)
.
Eventually, Mako can only pull Bolin close, lighting matches with bleeding hands and hating himself more and more with each passing day.
(His mother told him that fire is life itself. But he had watched his mother's face fade to ashes, and so Mako learns that fire is death itself.)
vi.
His firebending is gone.
Bolin grows sicker and thinner each day, and Mako grows terrified of waking up one morning, alone.
.
The Triple Threat Triads offer him a way out.
He doesn't think twice.
.
Mako makes his first run at the age of nine, and gets his first gang mark at thirteen.
vii.
Fighting is good.
Fighting dulls the other pains, makes him feel instead the stinging of bleeding knuckles and black eyes.
He's not very good at first, but Shady Shin grins at him with a mouthful of lies and tells him to clench his jaw next time. Mako wants to burn that leer off his face, and though the heat flares through his veins, the flames never come.
Not anymore.
.
Bolin becomes suspicious about the injuries Mako is nursing all the time, always asking probing questions with bright, intelligent eyes. Mako tells him he found work as a bodyguard, but misses the look of disbelief on his brother's face.
So when he's called for duty at another turf scuffle, Mako doesn't catch the flash of green coat, or the light footfalls that trail behind him all the way to an abandoned alleyway.
viii.
It all happens too fast.
And then Bolin is screaming, leg twisted in all the wrong ways, or maybe it's Mako's own voice curling up into the night like smoke, but he's desperate and beyond caring by this point and his brother's screams cut him to the bone.
Bolin hits the ground, and all Mako can see are his parents falling, over and over again.
Then his world bursts into flames.
.
The unbidden blast of fire explodes from his right palm, shredding through his skin like paper and turning the rival gang member's face into a brilliant display of red-orange flames. The man stumbles and retreats from the alleyway with his comrades, his curses and screams melting into incoherence and shadows.
The stench of burning flesh fills the empty backstreet, and Mako doubles over, retching and crying and fearing. Blackness pools across his vision like spilled ink, and he thinks he might finally be dying.
The thought terrifies him to no end.
"M-Mako?"
And in the end, it's Bolin's voice coming faintly from the folds of a dark shadow that brings him back.
Always Bolin.
Mako sets his teeth against the pain and begins crawling frantically toward the younger boy's prone form. "Yeah Bolin, I'm here," he soothes, determined to keep the tremor from his voice.
Bolin reaches for him, hand outstretched, and Mako holds on like a lifeline. "Guess we're still alive, huh?"
Mako uncurls his other fist, crusted with blood, and watches the flame as it's born into the palm of his hand, throwing Bolin's face into relief and sending sparks spiralling up into the night.
For the first time in six years, bending no longer hurts.
Mako lets out a choked sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
"Yeah, Bo. We're alive."
ix.
He works odd jobs for the next few years – everything from moving cargo at the docks to mopping the floors at City Hall. Bolin does his best too, though Mako makes sure to keep him off the streets and as far away from the gangs as possible.
Shady Shin corners him one day on the way back from the market, all slick words and sharp-toothed smiles.
But Mako only shows him the fire in the palm of his hand, and watches the flames as they reflect across his eyes, pupils dilated with fear.
It's a messy severance of ties, and Mako knows that he will pay the price later, but for the moment, it's good enough.
x.
Firebending comes back slowly to him, but Mako is nothing if not patient.
He practices in abandoned alleyways, throwing punch after punch until the brick wall is charred black. He picks up moves and tricks from observing street brawls, lurking warily at safe distances.
It's not always easy. Some days, especially after the reoccurring nightmares of his parents' lifeless eyes boring into him, the flames in his scarred hands merely flicker and fade into the wind.
On other days of frustration and anger, it roars and billows, uncontrollable like an inferno, reducing half of his sleeves to ash and leaving a trail of ruined skin in its wake.
Mako learns to roll up his sleeves and wear gloves after that.
xi.
When Toza finds the sixteen year old brawling in some forsaken back alley of Republic City, he doesn't ask many questions.
By the time he pulls the young Firebender off the bruised and battered challenger, Mako's already blackened the ground with soot and scorched the gloves right off his own hands.
Bolin's there in an instant, dropping the chunks of pavement he was in the process of hurling at the retreating thugs. "Mako! Mako, your hands!"
Mako pulls himself into a half stand, arm held out in front of the other boy defensively, "I'm fine, Bo. Stay back." He turns to the white-haired old man, blood running in rivulets and dripping from his fingertips. "Who are you?"
There's still a small blaze in the palm of his hand.
"Name's Toza. And you best put out that fire boy, I don't sit well with threats."
"You shouldn't have interfered," Mako replies, voice low with aggression and laced with mistrust. "I had them beat."
"What you had on your hands were five gang members all tryin'a do you in. What're you mixed up with them thugs for?"
Golden eyes narrow. "I'm not mixing with them. Anymore."
Bolin moves nervously to throw one of Mako's arms around his shoulder, shifting to support both their weights. "Well, thanks for everything, uh, Toza-sir, but we really should be going, please don't report us –"
"Oi. Not so fast."
The brothers freeze. Mako drops automatically into a defensive stance. Bolin opens his mouth, rare anger clouding his clear eyes. "Look, you can't call the cops –"
Toza rolls his eyes. "You boys ever heard of Probending?"
The brothers exchange a surprised look, and even Mako's face is wiped momentarily clear of suspicions.
Toza mentally congratulates himself on the new recruitment.
xii.
For street kids with no prior training, the brothers prove to be quite talented at the sport. Bolin even manages to put a hole the size of an earth disc into the wall at one point, to which Toza responds with a very confusing mix of pride and anger.
But it's the elder brother that puzzles Toza the most.
(There's a kitchen drawer in the brothers' apartment with a pack of matches.
Just in case.)
Mako's movements are precise and controlled, rare even for a seasoned Probender. But the fireballs never grow bigger than his fist, the flames never shoot further than a meter. And every so often, Mako would choke up in the middle of a sequence, as if some invisible hand had flipped a switch, leaving him cold and helpless.
Toza has never seen anything like it.
Like watching a man lose his bending, over and over again.
.
On those days, Bolin would rush to Mako's side, murmuring quiet words shared between two brothers with the same scars, and cradles Mako's hands with his own until the first flicker of fire bursts to life once more.
("It wasn't your fault.")
xiii.
"Step it up, boy, you won't last three seconds in a match with flames that weak."
"I'm trying!"
"Try harder!"
His knees hit the mat with a defeated thud. When he speaks, Toza is surprised to find it shaking – a rare lapse of control for a boy who can't seem to let go.
"I can't."
The room is silent for a long time afterward, punctuated only by Mako's heavy breathing and the distant City sounds floating through the open window.
Toza remembers the apartment full of matches, and sighs.
"You ever heard of shadowboxing, kid?"
xiv.
"This is weird." Right, left, right.
"There's nothing weird about training," Toza replies gruffly. "Drop your shoulders."
Mako obeys, executing another solid combination. Jab, right uppercut, left hook. "Doesn't Bolin need this too?"
Toza only says, "Keep going, and remember: no fire."
Mako's furrows his brows with concentration. There's a pant in his breath when he finally voices his frustrations. "What am I even aiming at?"
Jab, straight right, left hook.
Toza offers him a rare smile at that. "It's called shadowboxing for a reason, son."
xv.
They're cleaning up the training room one evening, Bolin having ducked out earlier with a date on one arm.
Mako finally breaks the silence. "I haven't really gotten around to thanking you properly. For taking us in, for giving us a chance. For everything."
Toza grunts.
"So – thank you."
"Was doin' all of us a favour," Toza replies gruffly, but his eyes are soft. "City don't need any more kids like you gettin' caught up in gang wars and whatnot. Woulda been a waste of talent, too. You and your brother are gonna go far."
Mako dumps an armload of dummies in a corner, frowning slightly. "I'm not talented."
Toza snorts with laughter at that. The boy may be frigid and far too serious for his own good, but he isn't proud or thankless. "You're getting there, kiddo."
But Mako only looks away, profile thrown into the shadows cast by the gym lights.
Toza starts to work on a stack of weights. "Do you know why I taught you to shadowbox?" Mako shakes his head stiffly, still facing the wall.
"It's an exercise in trainin' yourself to envision your opponent," he explains, jabbing an arthritic finger at the other's back, "and in findin' the rhythm of your element. You're out of touch with your fire is all – I knew it from the moment I saw you fighting in the alley."
At this, Mako raises his head and spins around, disbelief and a thin veil of optimism lining his eyes, as if Toza had just said something profound. Something illuminating.
Perhaps he had.
.
They settle back into a comfortable silence again, and when he finishes stacking the weights, Toza yawns widely. "Well, this old man's turnin' in early for the night. Finish up with those mats, will ya?"
Mako nods. "Goodnight."
Toza waves a lazy hand, shuffling for the door, when Mako calls out one last time.
"How did you know? When you first saw me in the alley, I mean."
Toza calls back without turning around.
"You're a fighter, kid. Got them eyes like fire."
xvi.
He stands in the middle of the empty training room, bandaged fists curling and uncurling, eyes closed, letting the dark that he has always been so afraid of shroud him like a blanket.
Mako raises his fists, drops his shoulders, and takes a stance.
No fire, he reminds himself, and opens his eyes.
xvii.
In their first match, Mako falters.
He's knocked into the water within minutes, and as the weight of the universe presses down on his lungs, Mako considers for a wild moment of just letting go, of sinking to the cold, dark bottom with pockets full of heavy fears and quiet guilt.
Somewhere in the distance, a bell rings.
Mako hears his name.
"-Bro! Hey, Mako! Mako!"
The sound is a spark on dry timber, and it catches like flames in the wind, igniting an inferno up and down his spine.
He kicks, once, twice – you're a fighter, kid – and when he breaks through the water, Bolin is waiting on the other side, hand outstretched.
(Guess we're still alive, huh?
Yeah Bo. We're alive.)
xviii.
"Sorry. I screwed up big time."
"What're you talking about?" Bolin nudges him with a playful elbow as they step onto the elevator. "The match isn't over yet, it's only been one round. We can still win this!"
Mako stares into the pool of water slowly forming around his feet. "What's the point of Probending if I can't bend?"
Bolin rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, restless with adrenaline. "You can bend, bro," he says resolutely, eyes still trained on the arena platform. "Remember the night I followed you to a turf war? You fought off those thugs singlehandedly and firebent for the first time in years!"
Mako frowns. "I got us into that mess to begin with –"
Bolin cuts him off there, squeezing his shoulder with a large, firm hand lined with his own scars and callouses, and Mako realizes for the first time that, somewhere and somehow along the way, the tables had turned; his little brother had now become his guardian.
"Mako, you saved my life that night."
He should have seen it coming, but the words hit him square in the chest anyway in a soft burst of warmth and grows roots of something nostalgic around his heart.
Mako thinks it might be hope.
Bolin is smiling when Mako finally raises his head, a smile brighter than fire itself, and Mako suddenly remembers the words he's buried for so long.
(fire is life itself)
.
The lift groans to a halt as the referee lets loose a shrill whistle blast. Bolin opens his arms, and Mako begins to believe that maybe it was Bolin that had been saving him, all along.
"Love ya, big bro."
"Love you back, little bro."
xix.
This time, the fire comes like second nature, and Mako is weightless against gravity, against all odds and the scarlet burdens he's draped over his shoulders for so long.
The bell signals the final, tie-breaking round, and he remembers Toza's words, dropping his shoulders and raising his fists like in his shadowboxing routines.
His first strike is powerful, but doesn't reach past the middle line. A blast of heat from the opposing team misses his shoulder by inches, close enough to singe cloth, and Mako staggers back, digging in his heel and gritting his teeth.
The acrid smell of burning rushes at him with the force of a tidal wave, clouding his senses and making the world spin. Mako chokes, losing all the air in his body as he thinks of the slow arc of his father's falling body, of blood on his scarred and ruined hands, of death.
It's over. I'm over.
But then his mind jumps, a skipping needle on a scarred album, back to Bolin as it always does – because all roads lead to the one he's always walking towards, leaving a trail of soot and ashes in his wake.
Mako raises his fists, drops his shoulders, and takes a stance.
No fire, he reminds himself, and when he opens his eyes, Mako only sees himself standing at the other end of the ring.
("It's called shadowboxing for a reason, son.")
And so, Mako tells himself to do what he does best.
Mako fights.
.
He throws the final punch, and this time, the fire roars like a dragon, strong in its blaze but controlled in its fury.
The knockout bell resounds across the arena to the roar of the crowd, but Mako only hears the sound of smoke fading into the air, his mother's voice leaving with it.
Fire is life itself.
(Bolin is all wide grins and proud eyes, his fist thumping softly between Mako's shoulder-blades, and so Mako thinks he might finally understand, after all.)
xx.
Korra moves with the force of a firestorm itself, and he knows he'll be burned if he gets too close.
But in the end, Mako is still a boy with eyes like fire, and in the end, she's still the most beautiful sight he's ever seen.
Summary: Korra and Mako becomes parents for the first time
Notes: Makorra
Excerpt:
Their first pregnancy scare came as a shock. It lasted all of one week until Korra got her period, and they both breathed a sigh of relief. But the thought of becoming a father didn’t leave Mako’s mind for the rest of the month.
“What do you think about having kids?” he asked.
He already knew the answer. She wanted some, not a lot. They had discussed it before getting married, but she still looked up at him with her eyes wide with surprise.
“Do you want me to get pregnant for real?” she asked.
Mako nervously clasped his hands together over his stomach. They were lying in bed after having breakfast; it was one of those rare days where they allowed themselves a break from work. He looked up at the ceiling, feeling his heart start to race.
“How do you feel about adoption?”
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Their first pregnancy scare came as a shock. It lasted all of one week until Korra got her period, and they both breathed a sigh of relief. But the thought of becoming a father didn’t leave Mako’s mind for the rest of the month.
“What do you think about having kids?” he asked.
He already knew the answer. She wanted some, not a lot. They had discussed it before getting married, but she still looked up at him with her eyes wide with surprise.
“Do you want me to get pregnant for real?” she asked.
Mako nervously clasped his hands together over his stomach. They were lying in bed after having breakfast; it was one of those rare days where they allowed themselves a break from work. He looked up at the ceiling, feeling his heart start to race.
“How do you feel about adoption?”
—-
She had seen the way he stared now at the homeless children that still managed to find their way to the streets. The city was changing under her guidance, and Mako and Bolin had been vocal about their experiences with orphanages. New facilities with actual funding and supplies had gone up, there were now rules and regulation, and many child protection laws had been put into place, each one inspired by a story Mako or Bolin had told her. They could never save them all, of course, but Mako still clung to the idea that it was possible to save everyone.
When her mother would send them piles of hand stitched blankets every winter, most of them would mysteriously disappear, until half of the city’s remaining homeless children were sleeping under the Avatar’s blankets. He wrestled with the idea of having extra money to spend as he pleased, never having to luxury of being frivolous, and ended up slipping his spare yuans into the hands of those children.
—-
On their way to the largest orphanage in the city, they met Sitka.
—-
She was seven, and on her own. When they finally were able to give her a bath, her skin was a pale brown just a shade lighter than Korra’s. Her eyes were dark copper with flecks of gold when they caught the light. Her dark brown hair was a thick mess, choppy and short, because she had cut it herself when the ends started to mat together. She was a firebender, skilled with contained tricks that she would perform on sidewalks with a tin cup at her feet.
It was a hellish process to finally bring her home. During the legal proceedings, she had to stay in an orphanage, which she ran away from twice. Mako ended up staying there with her until Korra convinced City Hall to let them have their little girl.
—-
Sitka didn’t know what to make of Korra, and the Avatar could tell.
“Why didn’t you have a baby on your own?” she asked on night. She was supposed to be in bed, as was Korra, but they both ended up eating ice cream at the kitchen table.
Korra shrugged. “Mako was like you. He wanted to adopt.”
“So you can have a baby?”
She nodded.
“Are you going to have one?”
She shrugged. She didn’t know. It was still a possibility.
“Why did you want me, then?”
Korra froze and stared at the little girl. She had to sit on a book in order to reach the table. Her ice cream had managed to make it onto her face and hands more than into her mouth, but she had the most serious expression on her face. There was no hurt, or childish confusion; it was far too adult.
Korra stood up and went to the sink, where she wet the corner of a dish rag, and walked over to Sitka to clean her face and hands.
“Let me tell you about how I met Mako.”
There was the Avatar’s destiny and the red string of fate and the perfect, fateful line of events that brought her to Mako, and then to Sitka. She had no other way of describing it, of how they saw her huddled at the mouth of an alleyway, face glaring at the world because at seven years old she was already too aware of what it meant to be an adult. And when Korra met Mako’s eyes, they knew.
—-
She started calling Mako, Dad, first. It didn’t surprise either of them, as Korra was home less often.
They had more in common, anyway.
Even after years free from the streets, Mako still had the habit of stashing things away in small hiding places throughout their apartment. Anything from money to socks to copies of legal documents. Sitka, for the first year, hid mostly food. She stole some of Mako’s money and stuffed it under her mattress. Just in case they decided they didn’t want her like her birth mother, or if something happened to them and she was left alone again.
One of their favorite activities together was running errands in the city, trying to find the quickest routes and shortcuts to each shop they needed to hit. Mako still knew the streets as if he had never left them, but Sitka was young, and had a sharper memory. She usually dragged him up fire escapes and climbed fences into compact backyards.
They both despised the cold and liked to eat over-ripened fruit. They had both had held jobs in a textile mill on 32nd street. They both knew members of the Triple Threats.
She just started calling him Dad with no warning. The first time it happened, he called Korra in the Northern Water Tribe and cried.
—-
She announced to Korra that she was going to call her Mom one day during her firebending lessons.
“Why now?” Korra asked, holding back as she threw a volley of flames at her daughter.
Sitka waved it away with one hand, unamused by Korra’s weak flames. She got enough of that with Dad. “Well, I’ve been here a while. And you’re the only mom I’ve ever had.”
“Oh. Ok. Great.”
In bed that night, Korra told Mako and cried while laughing. She had a daughter. She was a mother.
Notes: Hints of Bosami, but that's not the point here
Excerpt:
Because Korra can't stop bending all four elements once they are returned, Lin has to find someone else to spar with. She wants to flex her fingers and toes, she said, pale eyes sharp and hawk-like as they scanned across the faces of those at the compound.
Her eyes locked on Bolin and it was exactly like the time he was nearly eaten alive by a trio of owlcats when he was ten.
The snow seeps into the worn canvas of his shoes, chilling his feet, but he shivers because of Lin poised to strike ahead of him. She doesn't hide her smiles.
He wonders why she chose him of all people to spar with, and not a master, not one of the adults. He manages to hold his own but it's hard for him to shake away the limits of pro-bending rules; they're what he's used to. He's never sparred without them.
When Lin lobs a rock for his head and he just manages to duck, things change.
Suddenly he's ten years old and staring down a trio of owlcats while Mako robs a tailor shop with the Triple Threats. He's got to find any weapons at his disposal to win this fight and keep his flesh from ripping between claws and yellow teeth.
When Lin steps out of the way to dodge one of his usual disks of earth, he steps his foot forward and lifts his fists, spinning the earth beneath her feet fast enough to make her stumble onto her back.
Here is where he's supposed to run away thankful for his life, but instead he's frozen.
She lifts her head and stares at him wide eyed.
He covers his gaping mouth with his hands and has an apology at the tip of his tongue when she laughs. It's harsh and travels across the flat land like the shriek of a bird of prey.
"You ever think about joining the force?"
Read the rest on Tumblr or hit the break to continue:
Because Korra can't stop bending all four elements once they are returned, Lin has to find someone else to spar with. She wants to flex her fingers and toes, she said, pale eyes sharp and hawk-like as they scanned across the faces of those at the compound.
Her eyes locked on Bolin and it was exactly like the time he was nearly eaten alive by a trio of owlcats when he was ten.
The snow seeps into the worn canvas of his shoes, chilling his feet, but he shivers because of Lin poised to strike ahead of him. She doesn't hide her smiles.
He wonders why she chose him of all people to spar with, and not a master, not one of the adults. He manages to hold his own but it's hard for him to shake away the limits of pro-bending rules; they're what he's used to. He's never sparred without them.
When Lin lobs a rock for his head and he just manages to duck, things change.
Suddenly he's ten years old and staring down a trio of owlcats while Mako robs a tailor shop with the Triple Threats. He's got to find any weapons at his disposal to win this fight and keep his flesh from ripping between claws and yellow teeth.
When Lin steps out of the way to dodge one of his usual disks of earth, he steps his foot forward and lifts his fists, spinning the earth beneath her feet fast enough to make her stumble onto her back.
Here is where he's supposed to run away thankful for his life, but instead he's frozen.
She lifts her head and stares at him wide eyed.
He covers his gaping mouth with his hands and has an apology at the tip of his tongue when she laughs. It's harsh and travels across the flat land like the shriek of a bird of prey.
"You ever think about joining the force?"
He never thought of becoming a police officer. Even after Lin suggests it, the idea still doesn't sink it.
Not until he's downtown in Republic City, helping raise broken storefronts and working in construction after they return from the South Pole. He catches a guy brandishing daggers of ice in his hands at a pair of kids coming back from the market. He sinks the man into the earth and waits for the police to show up.
Lin shows up and stares at him sternly.
"Have you given much thought to my offer?"
He stares up at her blankly, dragging the back of his hand over his sweaty brow. He has to get back to work soon. "Uh...oh, the police thing?"
The way Lin's eyes narrow implies that she isn't a fan of his vocabulary, but she nods curtly.
"Wait, you were serious?"
He knew Mako wouldn't like the idea. But he didn't think his older brother would be this angry.
"No. That's got to be the worst idea you've ever had."
Korra frowns in her seat at the kitchen table. "Why? I think it's a really good idea."
Rather than respond, Mako just sends a glare at Bolin. He shrinks in his seat and stares at the floor, because this is not something his older brother wants to discuss in front of his girlfriend. Bolin should have known better.
"Lin said she'd teach me," he says.
Mako raps his spoon against the pot where soup bubbles on the stove. "I don't care. You know what I think."
"But it's Lin -"
"- She's the Chief," Mako corrects and says the word with regret, like it's Lin's only flaw.
Bolin stands before the metalbending school and flexes his fingers by his sides. The sign isn't painted; it's bent gold, shining and perfect against the morning sun. Two flying boars round off the prestigious family name.
Mako doesn't know he's here. Noone knows he's here, and for the first time, he's completely alone.
When he walks through the halls, hearing the sounds of chains and zips of wires and cracking earth and metal on metal, he feels panic roll around his chest as he peers into classes. Some people wear full uniforms and that's enough to make him remember, to kick up instincts, make him think he's got to run somewhere because all that police officers do is force him and his brother out of their shelters.
But then he runs into Lin and he feels a different type of panic, the kind he feels when he wants to make a friend and hopes the person will like him back. The corner of her mouth twitches into a barely-there smile.
"Ready to get started?"
On his first day he shows Lin what he's currently capable of. There are some other new cadets watching in a line, ready to prove their worth, but Bolin is first.
He's nervous but then Lin makes some remark about pro-bending, and even if it was supposed to be at his expense, he remembers that he loves to perform. The nerves disappear and he's having fun lobbing rocks at a metal dummy at the end of the training room.
When he launches himself in the air to spin and kick two more rocks forward, Lin lifts her hand to stop him.
"You can earthbend without touching the ground?"
Bolin pants and looks back at the surprised faces of the other cadets. He nods.
"Yeah. Can't everybody?"
How else would he have been able to bend fissures in the road while sitting in the back of a Triple Threat car, running dangerous jobs Mako never knew about to put extra money on the table?
"No. Not everybody can do that," Lin says, chewing on her bottom lip in thought. "I'm bumping you up a level."
Being raised to another level means he has to wear a blindfold for a week straight.
It's how Mako learns that he's joined the force.
Thankfully, he doesn't start another argument.
"I hope you know what you're doing."
Bolin nods and he keeps tapping his foot on the ground in order to see his brother sitting across from him at the kitchen table. There's just blurry mush coming back to him through the floor.
He really doesn't know what he's doing, but Bolin is used to that. He's always been given a limited view of the world because of Mako's protection, because of being homeless, of having no education.
There really isn't much of a difference in his life yet. He's waiting.
When he hears another teacher remark that it's strange for Lin to keep popping in at the school, he asks why.
"She never teaches new recruits. She's usually too busy for it."
He asks Lin about it and he doesn't even have to tap his foot on the ground to see her, as she does it for him unknowingly with impatience.
"I'm not letting any more slip-ups happen under my command. Now keep your feet on the ground, Twinkletoes."
"Twinklewhat?"
She constantly harps on him for dancing around the earth rather than keep his feet flat against it, but this is the first time a nickname comes out of his mistakes.
It's also the first time since putting on the blindfold that he feels someone's heartbeat race through the earth.
"Get back to work," she snaps, and she marches away.
He learns a lot during the week with the blindfold.
Whenever Korra says I love you to Mako, whether it's supposed to be quiet and soft, or just when she's running out the door while saying goodbye, her heart races a bit.
At first Bolin wondered if she always acted like this, if she was just an excitable person, but the pattern revealed itself quickly. Her heart rate escalates as she waits to hear him say the words back, and he does, every single time, usually his own pulse picking up but it's less pronounced.
She sighs with relief and everything is back to normal.
Mako places all of his weight at the tips of his toes as if he's prepared to run at any second.
This one comes as less of a shock. Bolin gets that way too, sometimes; antsy around people and situations he's been raised to avoid. The only difference is that Mako is like this constantly, he never rests unless he's in his own apartment with Korra and Bolin present. Even then he slips into being ready in case something happens.
Like the police knocking on the door for whatever reason, and having to leave through the windows. Like well-intentioned civilians trying to drag them to the police station to bring them to an orphanage.
Asami is an amazing liar.
He brags that he's being trained to be a human lie detector. He can hear the smile in her voice when she says:
"Let's test it."
They're supposed to have dinner with Korra and Mako. Bolin struggles to feel her heartbeat pick up as they wait on the steps of Air Temple Island for their friends, but they don't even notice when the couple doesn't show up as the hours pass.
At first it's funny (I am an orange flying bison with bright pink arrows, I love driving Cabbage Corp cars, I am an airbender) but then he really needs to try.
"Give me a serious one. One that you think you'd be difficult with saying."
There's a pause. He hears her lungs fill with air before slowly exhaling. Her fingers tap against her knees but nothing else changes.
"I love my father."
Bolin taps his heel against the ground and finds her hand. He reaches for it and it's the first time he's managed to see clearly all week.
He begs and begs and begs until finally, one afternoon where Bolin is bending thicker rock in the hot sun, blindfold still on, Lin talks.
She tells him to stop abruptly, right in the middle of his lessons. He's dripping with sweat and thristy but he knows there's no chance anybody will give him relief from the heat. So he's surprised when Lin hands him a glass of cold water and she raises two stools in the shade.
"Twinkletoes is Avatar Aang," she says, and he can feel her tremble with a sigh.
She talks about how he could earthbend without touching the ground, how he could make her laugh despite his terrible jokes, how he was one of many beloved uncles.
He wishes he knew what to say in response, but Lin expects nothing from him but
results.
"Now get back to bending. You should be on Zinc by now."
The first time he bends metal, he's not even really trying. He's joking around with Korra across the kitchen table, wiggling his fingers, but something must've locked into place because suddenly the prongs of the fork in her hands curl downward like an blooming flower.
Asami and Korra shriek while Mako's lips press into a tight, thin line.
"Aw, relax, Mako, we've got tons of forks," Korra says, punching him in the arm.
Bolin shuts his eyes.
Mako's body is tense and he knows that his older brother is angry and upset and worried but Bolin's too proud that he knows this and metalbending now to care.
It gets even better when Asami promises to take him out to lunch the next day in celebration.
Bolin can metalbend.
He can metalbend steel and iron and aluminum and gold.
The gold is easy and when Lin places the block in front of him, he doesn't want to ruin it.
"You won't ruin it. It's just earth," she says.
"Really expensive earth, yeah."
"Just bend it."
He struggles not with the actual force of the metal - it's so soft he can actually sink his fingers into it - but with the knowledge that this showy display of wealth is sickening. Other students are busy making crude jewelry and all Bolin can do is dip his index finger forward. He pushes it across the table.
"There, done."
"Make something."
Bolin twitches his fingers against the table, which he wants to try to bend instead. It's Titanium, and it's a higher level metal than he's ever tried. Lin stares at him and so does the brick of gold that he would have tried to steal if he were twelve again, shoving it into his coat pocket and handing it to Mako nice and new. And Mako would scold him but keep it anyway because they need it.
He stands up and with all the force he has at his disposal, he shoves his flat palms down and bends the table in half.
His teachers are mad because he was not supposed to do that, to go against superior's commands and wreck school property, but Lin's pleased. She's quiet and she doesn't say anything, but Bolin can tell. He's learned to read the earth and how to read her.
There are a few roadblocks he has to stumble through to graduate. None of them have to do with bending. It's all frivolous stuff nobody ever thinks about when signing up.
Like paying for his uniforms.
Like having to write reports.
Like relearning how to hold a pen because apparently, that one Triple Threat member he and Mako learned from was holding it wrong all along.
Like having to slowly remember how to spell as Lin stands over his back, watching him pluck away at a typewriter.
Korra helps him with his calligraphy and Lin gives him a dictionary. The Chief has all the patience in the world with this one failure of his and she never, not once, makes him feel stupid. She mentions her father never had a day of school and signed all of his documents with an X.
"Like Mako," Bolin says before thinking.
Lin's face conceals any emotion at the mention of his brother.
The biggest surprise is Asami's help. She picks him up after classes and instead of driving to a restaurant, she pulls up before a tailor shop and pays for every uniform he's ever going to need.
He didn't expect anybody besides Korra, Mako, and Asami to attend graduation.
When he spots Tenzin and his family in the audience, along with Korra's parents who said they were visiting to see their daughter, he's shocked. He can't show it because he's supposed to be paying attention to whoever is giving some speech about strength and justice.
He glances at the row of speakers. Lin catches his eye and gives him a reluctant smile, but it's proud.
He's the first in his class. Him. Bolin. Top of the class at the first school he's attended in his life.
It ends and only when he's rushing into the audience to thank everyone for coming does he notice the two empty seats by Mako. They're reserved with white ribbons.
Mako still isn't please but he hugs Bolin and says he's proud all the same. Bolin starts crying when he hears, Mom and Dad would be proud.
For some reason, when it's late and they're all still celebrating back at Air Temple Island over drinks and food, his mind keeps drifting to the kiss Asami planted on his cheek when he went to hug her.
He's Lin's partner.
"Is that normal?"
"Nope," an officer remarks in the locker rooms where Bolin is trying to shove his personal items away. "Rookies like you usually get security work."
Bolin beams. He wants to go and tease Lin about this, ask her if she requested him on purpose, but he holds back. He knows her better than that by now.
Plus, she must like him a lot to break standard procedure just to work with him.
He wonders once if it's because he's just that talented, or if it's because Mako had a word with Lin. It wouldn't be the first time that Mako's threats gave Bolin a leg up in life.
But then he hears Lin barking at seasoned officers over their inability to carry out simple tasks, ones that rookie Bolin can do better. He enjoys praise but he knows to keep silent about it around Lin so it'll keep coming.
He knew it would come up. He just didn't think it would be this soon.
He's on the night shift with Lin a month into work when there's a disturbance by the docks. Lin drives the cruiser and Bolin points out shortcuts, which by now she trusts him enough to listen to. They're the first car on the scene.
Some Triple Threats are having a minor scuffle over turf with some Red Monsoons.
Bolin's stomach lurches when a Triple Threat member who's Mako's age recognizes him, and then things turn.
It's all: Bo, is that you? Does your brother know about this? What happened to pro-bending and security work, hotshot, you think you're better than us? You're a traitor.
Despite the shouts of abuse and threats his old friends give him, they hold back on hurting him much. They leave that to the Red Monsoons. Nobody steps up for little Bo to ward off rival gang members anymore.
By the time they're shoving everyone into the backs of the cruisers, Bolin has a nasty cut on the side of his face and he can feel bruises blooming under his armor.
The Triple Threat members stare and yell at him through the barred windows of the cruiser. His fellow officers' stares are paired with silence.
On the ride back to the station, Lin doesn't say anything. She lets him curl up in the passenger's seat, even prop his feet against the dashboard.
By the time they're back, it's clear by the stares he gets that everyone's already heard about what happened at the docks. He can feel their eyes following him as he makes his way to the locker room to change and head home.
Taped to the outside of his locker is a copy of the mugshot he had taken when he was eight.
Maybe it was supposed to be a joke, but Bolin pulls it off, folds it, and tucks it into the back of his locker. He wants to be angry but for the moment he's feels like he's mourning something that he's sure he doesn't really want to let go of.
He had nearly forgotten that he was supposed to have dinner with Mako and Korra.
He's never wanted to turn away from something more than he does when he finds himself before their apartment door. All he wants is to go home and crawl into bed and never come out.
Inside it's just Mako at the stove, wearing a dirty apron, and already glaring.
"I heard what happened."
Bolin grits his teeth and looks at the floor to walk to his usual seat at the table. Instead of sitting, he stands behind it, gripping the back of the chair.
"How?"
"This."
He looks up and finds Mako gesturing to the mess of mesh and wires on the kitchen table, rigged to the electrical outlet with tape. It's a police scanner gutted from an old Satomobile.
Bolin sinks his short fingernails into the wooden back of the chair.
"How long did you think you could keep this up without something like this happening?" Mako asks.
Normally, Bolin would pick up Pabu and bury his face into the warm, red fur, and quietly walk off to his bed. But now he's a metalbender, he's been tested and trained to stand his ground for any reason, and this feels like the most important test of his life.
"I don't care. What the triads do isn't right and I'm keeping people safe."
"Do you even hear yourself right now?"
"They're bad people, Mako."
Mako rolls his eyes. "I know they're bad, Bo, but without them, where would we be? What about those other kids they've got employed? You're taking away their livelihood."
"Then I'll find some way to help the kids!"
"You're just like them!" Mako shouts, pointing. "What next, talking about picking up street kids and sending them to orphanages? Did you forget all the stuff the police did to us? If you were still a kid you'd hate what you've become."
"No, Mako, that's you," Bolin shouts back for the first time, voice booming. "You hate me."
Mako is left standing with his mouth open and silent.
When Bolin marches from the apartment, he immediately runs into Korra in the hallway. Based on the way her eyes are wide, she's heard everything.
Bolin doesn't know how he does it, because he's never felt more like crying in his life, but he holds it back. He gives Korra a hug and apologizes for not being able to make it to dinner.
By the time he's at the end of the hallway he can hear Korra and Mako arguing.
He wanders around the city for a while, tracing back through shortcuts and alleyways. When he reaches the one where he smoked his first cigarette with some other kids running numbers for the triads, he realizes he's close to Asami's apartment.
It's late but the only lights still on in the whole building are hers.
He doesn't expect much when he showed up unannounced - maybe a cup of tea and come catching up since they last had dinner together - but she expects him to stay. She's been awake for hours slaving over a new design for a Satomobile motorbike, and she's frustrated.
They sit on the sofa and talk.
"Did Mako ever tell you about what we used to be like as kids?" Bolin asks.
Asami knits her eyebrows together and shrugs. "He said you were adorable. But that's it, really."
Realizing he can tell her before it's too late, before that power is taken away from him and she finds out like Lin, or his fellow officers, or the Triple Threat members. He can make the choice to say that he's helped launder money, he's gambled, he's smoked and had a few illegal drinks, he's stolen from countless stores.
She doesn't kick him out or wave his past before his face.
She lets him sleep on the couch and gives him a kiss on the forehead before she leaves to go to bed.
When he walks into work the next morning, he finds his brother's mugshots plastered to the face of his locker.
Even though he's still angry with Mako, nobody has the right to do this.
Bolin collects them all and marches to Lin's office. He doesn't bother to knock and she instantly harps on him for that, but he slaps the pictures on her desk and glares at her.
"If this keeps up I'm going to have to be fired for murdering fellow officers, Chief."
Lin looks down at the photographs and looks just as mad.
"And I'd have to resign for allowing it to happen," she mutters under her breath and really, Bolin loves Lin. He adores her. She waves her hand and the door shuts behind him, and she offers him a chair.
He sits down and takes the photographs from her desk to tap them into order against his thigh. "Thanks. I didn't - I hope this isn't a problem."
Lin looks up at him and there it is, that expression where he's sure she's looking right through him, deep past his flesh and muscle right down to his bones. Weirdly enough, he finds it comforting.
"It has not and will never be a problem," she says. "Officer Bolin, I've known about this since I first formally met you."
"You - you what?"
"Your brother is the youngest person to ever be arrested for lightningbending in broad daylight," she says and Bolin hates the touch of pride he gets when he hears it. "You don't forget kids like that."
Bolin looks down at his lap and finds his older brother glaring back at him, fourteen years old and with the world on his shoulders. He just worries, Bolin thinks.
It's around noon when Bolin walks across the front lobby and finds Mako awkwardly standing near the front desk, fingers gripping around a brown paper bag, weight shifted to the tips of his toes. He's nervous.
Bolin realizes this is the first time Mako's gone to the police station by his own choice.
"Hey."
Mako nearly jumps a mile in the air but a small smile is on his face when he sees it's Bolin.
"Hey," Mako replies, then clears his throat to turn serious. "I just - I wanted to - here."
He hands out the brown paper bag and Bolin takes it. Scrawled across the front in the worst handwriting he's ever seen is just the word Bo, but it takes up nearly the whole side. He opens it and finds leftovers from the dinner he was meant to eat last night, along with five handmade dumplings.
He knows Mako stayed up late into the night slaving over them, probably listening to the police scanner, worried and angry and not knowing what to do about it.
Bolin smiles. "Apology accepted."
Lin never forces him to pull street kids from their homes and bring them to orphanages. They pass by them often, and he's seen her buy them food countless times. She never says a word about it, not even when the kids shout out thanks. When they are too afraid of them both, she digs deep into her wallet and has this system of wrapping paper money around metal coins, just so she can gently bend the coins into their makeshift shelters.
"Aren't you supposed to, y'know," Bolin asks one night when they're driving back from patrol.
Lin shrugs and pulls up next to a food cart. She walks out and tells him to stay put. He watches from the windows as she buys two large orders of noodles, and by now she knows what he likes, so she comes back with his exact order. They stay parked in the mouth of an alleyway and eat.
"There's nothing wrong with breaking the law when the laws are idiotic, Bolin," she says, gazing out at the street. "It's rare we have politicians these days that have any idea of what's best for the people."
He knows now about her beloved uncles and aunts and her mother. It goes unsaid that she thinks they would know what to do.
"You're a good person, Lin."
He's not supposed to call her by her name on duty, but he did it deliberately this time. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye and smiles, then lightly punches him in the arm.
"Back at you, kid."
For his first year everyone at the station calls him Rookie. He thinks it's weird that this nickname sticks even as new recruits are ushered in fresh from school.
But then the nickname morphs into Junior and he really doesn't get it.
"Why do they call me that?" he asks Lin one day.
She purses her lips and mutters under her breath so he can't really hear her.
When he asks again, the officers laugh.
"Because you're Lin's favorite, Junior. Might as well start calling you Bolin Beifong while we're at it."
Lin doesn't tell them to stop with either nickname.
It's rare that Korra gets to intervene with a disturbance, but when it happens to Bolin, he's thrilled.
"Hey, teammate," Korra calls as she jumps into the middle of the fight with leftover chi-blockers from a long dead revolution.
"Hello, fellow Fire Ferret," Bolin says, tipping his hat to the Avatar.
They should be waiting for backup, because it's just him and her, but they slip into their old pro-bending routines. It should be weird for Bolin to feel more comfortable fighting with water and fire at his sides, but it feels more natural than just earth and metal everywhere.
They're all laughs and smiles when the rest of the force shows up, the problem and the mess cleaned up already.
"You should have waited," Lin scolds him as they lean against the hood of her car, watching the chi-blockers put into the back of a cruiser.
Korra snorts. "And let you have all the fun? C'mon, Lin, Bo could've taken all those guys on by himself!"
"Aw, c'mon, Korra, stop," Bolin blushes and waves his hand.
He expects Lin to agree, that this is unnecessary praise, but she looks too absorbed in thought to say anything.
Later that night he's called to Lin's office and she makes him Captain of the force.
For some reason the first person he thinks to tell the good news to is Asami. He rushes to her apartment and she's wearing her pajamas, eyes bloodshot and begging for sleep, ink on her arms and face. But she spots the new badge on his hat as her face lights up her arms open.
He opens his arms as well and expects one of those excited hugs she's taken to given him lately, where she launches herself up and starts screaming and laughing.
Instead she rushes forward and kisses him so hard he backs up and is pushed against the opposite wall in the hallway.
He's never been so busy and so happy before. He works and any spare time outside of it is dedicated to his friends and family. He has dates with Asami and practically lives with her. Dinner twice a week with Mako and Korra becomes dinner with them and Lin if he can beg her enough to come.
Those nights are the best. It's a family dinner. They're loud and the neighbors downstairs constantly thump their fists against the ceiling to tell them to keep down the noise. Arguments spring up constantly but they're never with malice. Pabu runs across the table while they eat. Mako cooks everything and never asks for any help in the kitchen.
The police scanner still sits on the kitchen counter, but Mako doesn't intervene anymore. Bolin knows he just listens and watches over him. That's all he wanted.
One night just as they're about to leave, Mako stops him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, uh, I don't think I ever said that I'm - well." Mako pauses and licks his lips, looking away for a second and - oh no there are tears in his eyes. "I'm really proud of you."
Bolin's pretty sure they grab each other into a hug at the same time. Mako still has a few inches on him and Bolin really hopes it stays that way.
"Thanks. I love you, big bro."
Mako sniffles when they pull away and he looks at the three women watching them, now self conscious about his public display of affection. "Yeah. Love you too, Bo."
He isn't on duty when Lin gets injured, but he hears about it on the police scanner Asami lets him keep in the bedroom.
Asami is awake and working at her desk, but she just tosses him the keys to her car and tells him to call her in case it's really bad.
In the hospital Lin is more annoyed than hurt, but Bolin still cries at her bedside anyway and is all apologies that he wasn't there to protect her.
"Stop it. You have work in three hours and I am not leaving Huan in charge of my officers because I've got a broken leg and you're a goddamn mess. Pull it together."
The fact that she's so pale and tired, but still barking out orders, makes him smile.
"Yeah, sure thing, Chief."
"Bolin, get the hell out of my apartment!"
Bolin whistles and places the tea kettle on the stove top. Lin can't touch him while she's stuck in her bed with her leg in a cast. As her voice keeps getting louder and louder, wailing for him to leave, he drowns it out by making more noise as he knocks pots and pans together.
"At least tell me what kind of mess you're making out there!"
Bolin laughs. "It's not a mess! It's my brother's famous soup recipe!"
It's Mako's only soup recipe. It involves whatever you can get your hands on, sticking it in a pot, and hopefully finding a source of clean water for broth.
He has a pot of water boiling on the stove when he brings Lin a cup of tea. She takes it and instantly spits it out.
"Have you ever made tea before?" Lin asks, sputtering, picking tea leaves from her mouth.
"Uh. Actually, no, I don't think I have. I'm more of a coffee person."
"Bolin, get out."
He leaves and comes back fifteen minutes later with a real mug of tea, and a bag stuffed with her favorite take-out.
She lets him drag a chair into her bedroom, prop his feet on the bed, and eat with her while they listen to a pro-bending match on the radio.
Once Lin is fully healed and back to work, she isn't herself. Everyone can tell she favors her good leg, but that's not surprising. She's more serious but not as caustic, less easy to rile up, and she gives weak smiles.
Each time Bolin asks what is wrong, she just shrugs him off.
They're writing reports in her office late one night, listening to the radio. She suddenly shuts it off and Bolin looks up to find her staring at him.
"We need to talk," she says.
He nods and puts down his pen, straightening up and prepared for the worst.
"I'm not getting any younger," she says.
Bolin doesn't nod because that would be rude. He just keeps staring, and Lin sighs.
"And I never had any children."
The joke flies from his mouth before he can stop himself. "Why, you asking for some?"
His face is burning with embarrassment when she just pauses to stare at him, but her shoulders jerk and she laughs, that same laugh she makes every time Commander Bumi makes a dirty joke or Tenzin is flustered by something Pema says.
She rubs her eyes and shakes her head. "No, Bolin. As much as I'd like to have every member of the Beifong family in this line of work, I can't. But...that doesn't mean I can't...chose someone. From my family."
He has no idea what she's talking about so he nods slowly, eyes narrowing.
Lin gets fed up and sighs.
"You're my choice for Chief when I retire."
That's surprising, but it's not what makes his eyes wide and jaw fall open.
"Wait a minute, I'm fam-"
He holds back the end of his sentence. He knows Lin. She doesn't like being emotional or sentimental or openly loving.
Summary: Mako hates people making a big deal about his birthday and doesn't tell anyone about it. Korra finds out.
Notes: Tiny hints of Makorra, bonus points for using Chinese in the signs
Excerpt:
Whoever invented mornings deserved to get punished by an Avatar whilst in the Avatar state. If she could, Korra preferred to not be awake until around noon. She was the type of person who would rather stay up half the night and sleep all day than one who believed in the maxim "the early bird gets the worm." In true fashion, she had stayed up till around midnight-ish the night before, even knowing she had to wake up before the sun the next morning, and all in all getting around four and a half to five hours of sleep.
So that was probably why she kept forgetting herself and nearly using one of the three other elements at least three times already, instead of only waterbending like she was supposed to be, much to the chagrin of her teammates.
(But they were sending weak attacks at each other as defense practice and trying different ways of blocking them; it was her instinct, what was she supposed to do? Counteract an earth disk with water? Please.)
"Korra!" Mako snapped at her on the fourth time of her returning his fireball.
"I know," Korra huffed, exasperated, sending a bit of water at him and drenching him. Though his brother began literally rolling on the floor laughing, Mako was not amused; instead, he glared at the sleep-deprived Avatar till she removed the liquid from his clothes.
"Now Waterbend," he told her slowly. "Water." She did—a huge wave of water right in his face, and she refused to dry him off.
By splashing cold water on her face to wake herself up, she managed to get through most of the rest of practice without using any other than her native element. But when again she Earthbended, Mako threw his hands up. "Never mind. There's only two minutes left before the other team shows up anyway. Let's just go." With that, he swept out of the room.
As soon as he was gone, Bolin sidled up to Korra. "Don't mind him, he's just cranky 'cause it's his birthday tomorrow and he doesn't like people making a big deal about it," he said matter-of-factly.
From a small distance they heard Mako yelling, "Bo, you better not be telling her what I think you are!"
"Nooooo," Bolin called back with faux innocence.
Korra muttered out of the corner of her mouth, "Surprise party?"
"Surprise party."
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Whoever invented mornings deserved to get punished by an Avatar whilst in the Avatar state. If she could, Korra preferred to not be awake until around noon. She was the type of person who would rather stay up half the night and sleep all day than one who believed in the maxim "the early bird gets the worm." In true fashion, she had stayed up till around midnight-ish the night before, even knowing she had to wake up before the sun the next morning, and all in all getting around four and a half to five hours of sleep.
So that was probably why she kept forgetting herself and nearly using one of the three other elements at least three times already, instead of only waterbending like she was supposed to be, much to the chagrin of her teammates.
(But they were sending weak attacks at each other as defense practice and trying different ways of blocking them; it was her instinct, what was she supposed to do? Counteract an earth disk with water? Please.)
"Korra!" Mako snapped at her on the fourth time of her returning his fireball.
"I know," Korra huffed, exasperated, sending a bit of water at him and drenching him. Though his brother began literally rolling on the floor laughing, Mako was not amused; instead, he glared at the sleep-deprived Avatar till she removed the liquid from his clothes.
"Now Waterbend," he told her slowly. "Water." She did—a huge wave of water right in his face, and she refused to dry him off.
By splashing cold water on her face to wake herself up, she managed to get through most of the rest of practice without using any other than her native element. But when again she Earthbended, Mako threw his hands up. "Never mind. There's only two minutes left before the other team shows up anyway. Let's just go." With that, he swept out of the room.
As soon as he was gone, Bolin sidled up to Korra. "Don't mind him, he's just cranky 'cause it's his birthday tomorrow and he doesn't like people making a big deal about it," he said matter-of-factly.
From a small distance they heard Mako yelling, "Bo, you better not be telling her what I think you are!"
"Nooooo," Bolin called back with faux innocence.
Korra muttered out of the corner of her mouth, "Surprise party?"
"Surprise party."
XXX
"Meelo, stop trying to eat the streamers!" Ikki raced after and caught the squirming little boy while Jinora plied the salvageable bits of streamer from their brother's mouth, then Airbended herself up to hang them all across the room, criss-crossing the different colors of blue and red. She bounced lightly off everyone's heads in the process, naturally causing many angry reactions, and finally lowered herself down next to Skoochy. Tenzin hung a banner reading 你生日快乐馬寇！(Happy Birthday Mako!) and Lin Metalbended its tacks into the wall.
"Um, what's this about?"
Korra jumped at the sudden voice behind her. Seeing Mako, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "M-Mako!" she stammered, hastily attempting to shove him out of the room. "It's nothing, really!"
"Just let him in, he's here already," Lin said monotonously, rolling her eyes.
Defeated, Korra stepped aside. "Surprise?" she said weakly, hopefully.
Mako turned to Bolin, who by this point had wandered over to them. "I thought I specifically told you not to tell her, or was I talking to Pabu that whole time?"
He shrugged innocently. "Slipped."
"So…you're mad?" Korra said, not sure if it was a question or a statement. It was then Mako looked at her and noticed how sad and hurt she looked at this concept. He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"No, I'm not mad." He offered a small, slightly forced smile and Korra's face lit up. And then he really did smile, just for the look on her face and how she could change emotions so quickly, going from a pout to a full-on grin in a matter of seconds.
Bolin clapped a hand on Mako's shoulder. "Happy birthday, bro."
Iroh and Asami, in charge of the phonograph for the night (and having a bit of trouble with it), began music to get the party started and to relieve a bit of the awkwardness. Korra held out her hand to Mako. "Care to dance, mister?" she invited, eyes glistening with the spirit of the joke. He was just about to place his hand into hers and accept with a jest of equal proportions when he was nearly rammed into by Ikki.
"Mako, will you dance with me? Will ya?" she asked, bouncing up and down.
"Uh, I was just about to—"
Korra waved a hand. "No, it's fine, go." And so Mako proceeded to awkwardly lead Ikki out onto the dance floor, and she was so short she rode on his toes. He twirled her once for good measure and Ikki used Airbending to make a spectacle of it.
When the song ended he looked around for Korra, who had gone over to the food table and was sampling different foods made by Pema, and began making his way over to her. But he was stopped again, this time by a little girl who he knew was either Ikki or Jinora's friend, but he couldn't remember which. She, too, asked for a dance, saying she saw Ikki doing it and it looked like fun.
Throughout the night he kept trying to get to Korra, but little girls wanting a dance continued to get in his way, or another guy would ask Korra instead, and his jaw clenched as he watched her dancing with nearly every other guy there.
Finally able to snatch a free moment, Mako ducked outside to get some fresh air and to get away from the roomful of people—years on the streets had made him wary and uncomfortable in crowds.
To his surprise, Korra was outside as well, sitting on a bench in her party dress—no doubt one she'd been forced into, though she'd once confessed that it wasn't dresses she hated, it was the events she usually had to wear them to, so maybe not.
"Hey," Mako said, sitting next to her. "Why are you out here?"
"I could ask the same of you," she replied, smiling. "Just wanted to get some fresh air."
"Me too."
They were silent for a moment, the noise of the party and the jazz music, the current new phenomenon, being played by Iroh and Asami spilling out into the night. Suddenly Mako stood, a spark of an idea in his head. "Y'know," he said, "we never did get in that dance earlier."
Korra sat up straighter with realization. "No, we didn't, did we?"
Mako held out his hand. "May I have this dance, milady?"
She grinned and placed her own hand in his. "Of course, sir."
After the party ended, Bolin came up to him and asked how he liked it. "It was great, Bo," he told him honestly. "And no, that is not an invitation to do this every year." Bolin closed the mouth he had opened just before Mako spoke the second sentence and pouted.
Summary: Perhaps tea metaphors were not the best way to woo a woman, but they seemed to work for her.
Notes: Irosami
Excerpt:
"The gasoline actually combusts in this chamber? And that doesn't destroy the engine? How can you control it without any type of bending?"
Asami tapped her stick impatiently as the young General Iroh examined the rudimentary drawing of a satomobile etched into the dirt. Typical of firebenders to think they were the only ones who can control fire. Hot, wild, and unpredictable it may be, but like any of the other elements it could be tamed and put to good use.
"The engine is built in such a way that it contains the combustion. The push that the small explosion creates moves the piston, which then can translate into power."
Iroh's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "What happens when the gasoline is gone? It can't be re-heated, my firebenders have to manually replace the oil in our cannons before reusing."
Asami pursed her lips together, trying to think of the easiest way to explain the pressure differential and vacuum effect to somebody who hadn't grown up around machines. "The exhaust that comes out of the pipe here," she tapped the back of the car with her stick, "is the leftover from the gasoline and fire reaction. The movement of the piston back here," she tapped on the crude schematic of an engine "pulls in more gasoline."
"Just by moving?"
She nodded. "Just by moving. It pulls more gasoline into the space it created, kind of like when you drink out of a straw."
The general stood up, rubbing his hands together. "It just seems so...needlessly complicated. On our ships we just use firebenders to power the engines and waterbenders to steer the ship."
Asami scowled. "Not everybody is a bender, general. We have to make do with what we have."
Iroh held up his hands. "I did not mean to offend, Miss Sato. I merely think our way is possibly more...efficient."
"By efficient you mean tying up manpower to execute simple tasks?" Asami tilted her head and widened her eyes for effect, trying to conceal the hidden barb.
The general, however, was not fooled. "It is not so simple as that. Our system may be more rudimentary, but it is also tough and more resilient to attacks and damage."
"And this system allows your firebenders and waterbenders to protect against those attacks so they do not land in the first place. That, I believe, is a much better solution."
"Do you really believe so?" His tone was incredulous, but not condescending.
"My father built his air fleet that way, and I believe they easily overpowered your battle ships."
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I. Chapter I
"The gasoline actually combusts in this chamber? And that doesn't destroy the engine? How can you control it without any type of bending?"
Asami tapped her stick impatiently as the young General Iroh examined the rudimentary drawing of a satomobile etched into the dirt. Typical of firebenders to think they were the only ones who can control fire. Hot, wild, and unpredictable it may be, but like any of the other elements it could be tamed and put to good use.
"The engine is built in such a way that it contains the combustion. The push that the small explosion creates moves the piston, which then can translate into power."
Iroh's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "What happens when the gasoline is gone? It can't be re-heated, my firebenders have to manually replace the oil in our cannons before reusing."
Asami pursed her lips together, trying to think of the easiest way to explain the pressure differential and vacuum effect to somebody who hadn't grown up around machines. "The exhaust that comes out of the pipe here," she tapped the back of the car with her stick, "is the leftover from the gasoline and fire reaction. The movement of the piston back here," she tapped on the crude schematic of an engine "pulls in more gasoline."
"Just by moving?"
She nodded. "Just by moving. It pulls more gasoline into the space it created, kind of like when you drink out of a straw."
The general stood up, rubbing his hands together. "It just seems so...needlessly complicated. On our ships we just use firebenders to power the engines and waterbenders to steer the ship."
Asami scowled. "Not everybody is a bender, general. We have to make do with what we have."
Iroh held up his hands. "I did not mean to offend, Miss Sato. I merely think our way is possibly more...efficient."
"By efficient you mean tying up manpower to execute simple tasks?" Asami tilted her head and widened her eyes for effect, trying to conceal the hidden barb.
The general, however, was not fooled. "It is not so simple as that. Our system may be more rudimentary, but it is also tough and more resilient to attacks and damage."
"And this system allows your firebenders and waterbenders to protect against those attacks so they do not land in the first place. That, I believe, is a much better solution."
"Do you really believe so?" His tone was incredulous, but not condescending.
"My father built his air fleet that way, and I believe they easily overpowered your battle ships."
Iroh's face darkened, and Asami immediately regretted the insult. "I'm sorry, General," she backpedaled. "That was too harsh, I know it only happened earlier today..."
He held up a hand and she bit her tongue, stemming the apology. She looked at him inquisitively, and he gave her a rueful smile.
"No. You are right, Miss Sato. We have underestimated the abilities of non benders and overestimated our own abilities for far too long." With that, he turned to walk away, leaving a stunned Asami in his wake.
She frowned, leaning back against a dirty wall in the underground compound and sliding down to the floor. General or no, it was rude for somebody to walk away in the middle of a conversation like that! Even if the conversation was a little...heated. She knew she should be embarrassed, but in truth she hadn't felt so free to express her opinion or talk to someone since her mother was still alive.
Regardless, he still shouldn't have walked away. Even after conceding that she was right.
Asami sighed, and pulled her feet closer to her body. She might as well go find everyone else-Korra, Bolin, and her boy...ex boyfriend. She made to get up when she heard the crunching of dirt and unmistakable sound of footsteps coming towards her.
General Iroh was back, and this time he sat down next to her unabashedly, crossing his legs and spreading a large map of Republic City and the surrounding areas out in front of them. He pointed to a spot to the left of the island.
"We had originally planned to organize to the west of Republic City and have reinforcements come in through here," he pointed to a channel on the map. "But your father's air fleet destroyed that plan. I need your expertise on what these machines can do to figure out what to do for a viable plan of attack once we get in contact with Bumi."
Asami grinned, and moved to sit next to the young general. This was something she knew she could do.
When Asami came to, she, Bolin, and Iroh were alone in a prison cell, unceremoniously tied together.
"I suppose you didn't know about that particular one of your father's inventions?" She didn't need to be able to see the general's face to know he was scowling.
Asami frowned. "He did manage to keep one or two pretty big things from me, I'll have you know."
"What was that anyway?" Iroh asked, flexing the ropes around him to try and rub his sore arms. "I've never felt so awful in my life!"
"It acted like an electric fence," Asami replied. "But it didn't have any wires between the fence posts. Somehow the electricity only transfers to you if you get close enough to the posts, I suppose we are the grounding agent."
"Are you saying that was electricity? I thought that was lightning being shot at me!"
"Why do you benders always think in terms of the elements?" She sighed. "Electricity is lightning, just in a tamed, useful form. It's energy."
"No good can possibly come of such a dangerous idea."
Asami bristled. "A lot of good can come of it! We have lights and heat because of it!"
"But to have something so dangerous in your home-"
"Are you saying firebenders shouldn't be allowed inside either? Because they can produce lightning too."
"Yes, but it's not the same-"
"Guys, guys!" Bolin exclaimed. "We're kind of...stuck together." He pulled against the bindings. "Can we at least try to get along?"
"Whatever," Asami sighed. "I'm going back to sleep."
When she found him dangling off the flag still strung from the statue of the previous Avatar, she was surprised that her first reaction was to laugh. She quickly pressed a gloved hand to her mouth, her fathers words running through her ears. "It's not nice to laugh at somebody to their face, Asami." He had winked then. "You have to come home and tell me about it first, and then we can laugh together!"
The memory of her father sobered her, but she found the feeling of desolation passed when General Iroh began to wiggle about and called down to her. "A little help here!"
The involuntary shaking of her shoulders gave way, and Asami burst out into laughter. Above her, she saw Iroh scowl. "It's not funny!" he yelled, to which she crossed her arms over her stomach and bent over, completely taken over by the laughter.
She couldn't help it. It had been the worst month of her life. First, the equalists destroyed the bending arena, then her father had turned on her, an equalist himself, and upended everything she thought she knew. Her relationship deteriorated from there, between her moodiness and snappishness and his googly eyes for her friend. And then this war had come to a head, with everything she loved put into danger.
And now it was over, Republic City was safe, and the general of the United Forces was dangling from a ripped Equalist flag like a spider monkey caught in a vine.
Bolin shook his head beside her, chuckling. "You are one crazy girl, Asami." He smiled, ever positive even in the wake of war. As he made to bend the earth up to meet the other boy, Asami stepped forward.
"Just one second, Bolin," she said, holding out an arm. "The general and I need to have some words."
Bolin raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't move forward as she walked up to stand under the flag.
"What do you think of my father's machines now, General?" She yelled up to the figure swaying above her. She fought down giggles when she heart a grunt and a reply.
"Miss Sato, you know that I think they are terribly deadly creations and I have nothing but respect for them. Now, if you please could assist me in getting down..."
Asami held up a hand, feeling a smirk take over her face. "Do you think that, perhaps, a method not based in bending would be a useful addition to the technology that powers your fleet?"
Iroh squirmed uncomfortably, which caused him to sway even more violently side to side. "I...I would have to think on that..."
"Even after your encounter with them today?"
A loud rip echoed through the air and he sank a bit further on the flag. "Alright! Alright! I believe a mix of nonbending and bending machinery and personnel would be a more deadly mix than focusing on benders only! Now will you please let me down?"
And so Asami laughed again as Bolin rushed forward to allow the general a reprieve and some solid ground. She laughed so hard that she had to sit down and rest her head on her knees, and although she knew she probably looked certifiably insane, she didn't care. And when she felt a hand on her shoulder and a certain deep voice chuckling with her, she forgot what she was laughing about in the first place.
Iroh was right, Asami thought, Bumi certainly was a bit of a wild man. A bit, she chuckled, that might be an understatement. But as the commander strode up to the younger general and clapped a hand on his shoulder, Asami felt a swelling of pride in her chest. After all, she was part of this effort too.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find another set of amber eyes staring at her.
"You guys were amazing, Asami," Mako said, and she felt her cheeks tinge with pride. "I can't believe I ever asked you to stay behind in your father's mansion for your safety, you definitely can take care of yourself."
Asami smiled, but still felt a twinge of annoyance for the reminder that just about everyone always assumed she was just a pretty face. The worthwhile ones came around and apologized-Korra, Bolin, Mako-but the common misconception was always one she was going to have to battle. "Thanks Mako, you and Korra did really well too."
Mako's mouth twitched at the mention of the avatar, and his gaze flickered ever so slightly above Asami's shoulder, to where she knew Korra was standing. "We're going to the south pole to try and get Master Katara's help in healing her, but I'm not sure if it will work."
She frowned an put a consoling hand on his shoulder. The tingling sensation she used to feel upon any contact with him was absent, and Asami vaguely wondered when she had stopped feeling it. A long time ago, probably, she just hadn't noticed. "I'm sure it'll work." She tried to put on an optimistic smile. "Master Katara is the best healer in the world."
Mako only frowned, so she squeezed his shoulder and let go. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the general and Commander Bumi finish their conversation and start walking towards the group.
"Well, good luck on your trip," she said, to which Mako's eyes widened and rubbed the back of his neck, looking mildly uncomfortable. "What?"
"About that," he began. He put his hand down and coughed, starting again. "What I mean is, I hope you'll come with us to the South Pole."
"Why?"
"Because, well, I meant what I said. I am sorry about how messed up things got between us. I acted like a jerk, and I can't ask you to forgive me for that." Asami opened her mouth, not sure whether to protest or agree with him. But he held up a hand, "But, like it or not, you're part of this family now. I care about you, Bolin cares about you, and Korra cares about you. And I would be really sad if we all lost such an amazing friend because of something stupid I did."
Asami paused, letting his words sink in and focusing on her own reactions. She wasn't feeling the anger or sadness that had accompanied with their breakup-was it really just last night? Perhaps it was the war changing around everything, or perhaps they had never been so strong together as a couple. Probably both. But Mako as a friend was something she knew that she wanted.
"Of course I will, Mako. Korra's my friend too." Mako gave a tentative smile, and she grinned back. "I know I did some stupid things too, I know I turned you away some of those times you tried to help. Don't get me wrong, I still think you were more of the jerk-" He chuckled, embarrassed. "But these things happen. I can't expect you to deny your feelings, sometimes they just hit you. Blindside you, right out of the blue."
"Miss Sato, a word?" Asami jumped at the sound of General Iroh's voice off to her left.
Asami gave a quick nod to the general before turning back to Mako. She tilted her head towards the downtrodden Avatar, who still was leaning against Tenzin like a lifeline. "She's going to need you, Mako." She gave a confused looking Mako a quick smile and wave before walking down to the dock.
"Yes, General Iroh?"
"I couldn't help but overhear..." his hands wrung together, and he looked almost nervous, "that you are headed to the South Pole."
Asami nodded. "I am, I'm traveling there with the Avatar." At the look on Iroh's face she felt the need to add, "But I will be returning before too long, I'm still staying on Air Temple Island with Tenzin and Pema and their family."
Iroh's lips twisted into a smile, and Asami's stomach chose that moment to twist rather strangely. She frowned, trying to remember the last time she ate a good meal. The street gruel did not count.
"I was hoping, Miss Sato, that you would accompany me to tea upon your return."
Asami stared, incredulous. Was the General of the United Forces asking her...on a date? "Tea?"
He coughed. "A wise man once said that there is nothing better in this world than a good cup of tea and a good conversation. You, Miss Sato, never fail to impress me with your strength, your intelligence and knowledge of all of this-" He waved a hand about, trying to find the right word. "-technology. And, I would like to learn more about you."
Asami blushed at the compliment, and began thinking of kind ways to turn him down. She couldn't pull the 'I have plans' card that far in the future, but perhaps the war or her recent breakup would do? Maybe if she let him down nicely-
And then she realized what he had said. Or perhaps what he hadn't said. He wanted to have tea to talk to her. To learn more about her. Because he was impressed with her. Her intelligence, her strength. Not because she "was a good fighter for a girl" or "smarter than she looked." But because she was just herself. Asami.
She had met him under the worst of circumstances, quarreled with him about engines and machines and bending immediately after her breakup, snapped at him when they were captured and tied up by her father, and weaseled a concession out of him while he was trapped hanging from an equalist flag two stories in the air. She had shown him nothing but her worst side, her uncensored opinions. And he wanted to go out with her still.
"I think I would like that," she replied. "And please, call me Asami."
His smile was bright like a fire on a cold night, and she was sure it would keep her warm in the frozen Tundra.
II. Chapter II
Tea, it turns out, was a very serious venture. Iroh refused to tell her the name of their destination, and instead only provided her with the cross-street where she was to meet him.
Without a name, Asami couldn't really fret about her wardrobe or hair. After all, tea houses in Republic City ranged from open and sprawling stands—closer to a cafeteria than a restaurant—to luxurious and expensive establishments, like the ones her father used to go to.
Iroh's secrecy about the tea house, however, could also have been explained by the name.
"The Leaping Shirshu?" Asami felt her eye twitch, and had to fight to keep her expression neutral. The sign hanging above her proudly displayed said name, along with a reptilian looking creature contorted into a strange position. She supposed it must have been "leaping."
Iroh rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a sheepish look, which she couldn't help but find quite adorable. "It is an odd name, to be sure." He put his hand down and stood a little straighter, gaining a bit more of authority in his voice. "The first Great General Iroh opened this tea shop as his second business after the fall of Fire Lord Ozai. He chose to open shop in Republic City to help the Avatar and Fire Lord Zuko in their rebuilding and peace keeping efforts."
"But why the Leaping Shirshu?" Asami couldn't quite keep the giggle out of her voice this time around.
"I was told it was named after a striking young woman that the general was particularly fond of: a bounty hunter and one of the few people ever known to bond with a Shirshu. A headstrong and intelligent woman, as dangerous as she was beautiful." Iroh gained a mischievous glint in his eye. "Reminds me of someone else I know."
Asami blushed and looked away before he could see her smile. Though she was still unsure of the general's intentions beyond taking her to tea, it was nice to feel courted. Her last relationship she fell into easily, but it wasn't until later that she realized how little connection they had had beyond friendship.
In comparison, Iroh's compliments and his gentle hand on the small of her back made her feel giddy and light headed, like she was fourteen all over again, thrust into her first high society party.
Asami shook her head to rid herself of such thoughts. She didn't know what the general wanted with her, yet. Tea was tea, and for all she knew he wanted to discuss nothing more than the rebuilding of his fleet and the new effort to incorporate technology.
But while she was excited at the prospect to be able to talk strategy with somebody who would actually listen without getting impatient (as a certain blue-eyed friend of hers would often do), she couldn't help but want this meeting to mean something more.
"This General Iroh seems to be quite an accomplished man," Asami prodded. She knew a little of the first General Iroh, who wouldn't? The former grandmaster of the Order of the White Lotus and part of the small group who had retaken Ba Sing Se during the return of Sozin's Comet. But she enjoyed hearing her companion talk about him, especially the way his back would straighten and his eyes would shine with pride.
The younger Iroh nodded. "I can only hope to live up to my namesake. He was a powerful man, but also wise and honorable."
They took their seats in a secluded corner of the shop and Asami was momentarily distracted by the large menu of teas sitting in front of her. There were so many to choose from! Fruity teas to hearty Oolong teas to a spicier Chai to smoky Black teas, all with descriptions of their contents and origins. How a small shop could keep track of so many teas was mind boggling.
Asami snuck a glance around the shop, which was decorated in subtle reds and greens. Lanterns of a fire nation pattern were strung around the perimeter of the shop, giving off a low, flickering glow. Electric lamps with etched earth kingdom designs were mounted on the walls, giving off just enough light to read from. Since many of the more enthusiastic tea drinkers were from the Earth Kingdom or Fire Nation, the decor made sense.
"You know," Iroh said, peering over the top of his menu. "They say that what tea you prefer says a lot about a person."
"Do they now?" Asami wasn't sure if he was making this up or not, but was happy to play along. She enjoyed being able to tease the general, and every time he responded in kind she was less worried about acting properly and happier to just let her own words flow of her tongue. "And which tea do you prefer, my dear general?"
Iroh coughed and quickly duck his head behind his menu, but not before Asami could see the beginning of a blush. She raised her menu up to hide her smirk as she listened to his reply. "I have always been a fan of the ginseng tea at this particular establishment. They have a spicier variety that uses ginger and pepper that reminds me of the tea my grandfather would always drink at home."
Asami pictured the former fire lord and his grandson sharing a pot of tea in the luxuries of the fire nation and had to stifle a laugh. As the picture morphed to just Iroh, clad in an apron, making a pot of tea she blushed furiously.
"And what does that say about you?" she asked, trying to distract him from her burning cheeks.
"I don't know, I've never asked," Iroh replied. He leveled his gaze at her and she swallowed. His eyes were still a burning amber in the lamplight, and his expression, while relaxed, was very serious. "Perhaps you will be able to tell me."
This was not helping her blushing. Asami coughed and looked back down to her menu, trying to decide which tea to order. So far they all sounded delicious. She was narrowing down her choices by only considering ones with animals in the name when she saw a waiter come up to their table.
"Welcome to the Leaping Shirshu!" The waiter was young and enthusiastic, wearing a green apron with a reptilian figure embroidered on the edge. His smile stretched from ear to ear and Asami briefly wondered if he ever got stuck with such a grin on his face. "Which of our lovely teas can I get started for you today?"
"I'll have your Ginger Ginseng Tea, please," Iroh said, folding his menu down in front of him. His eyes flickered towards Asami and she quickly glanced down at her menu, eyes landing on the last tea she had been reading about.
"I'll have the Dancing Dragon Pearl Jasmine, please," she read off quickly, before handing her menu to the waiter.
"Excellent choice!" he crooned. "I will be right out with your teas." With that, he sped off, apron flapping behind him. Asami shook her head.
Iroh coughed. "The staff here takes their jobs very seriously." He gave her a grave look. "If they didn't, they wouldn't get any free tea."
She chuckled and held a well manicured hand up to her mouth, briefly noticing that she had forgot to paint her nails their normal shade of red. "That would be serious punishment, indeed."
He laughed, a soft, deep sound that she was suddenly sure she would never get tired of. "You will understand when you try their tea. The jasmine you ordered will be quite unlike anything you've had before."
"I've never had Jasmine tea before," Asami confessed, feeling a bit odd to say such things in a tea shop. "We were never big tea drinkers in my family, it would always feel strange to drink tea after working on different satomobiles all day. Especially when I was covered in oil." At Iroh's sharp look she felt the need to clarify. "From the cars. Machine oil and grease."
He coughed and let out a strained, "I see."
Asami closed her eyes and could only imagine what sort of images her proclamation brought up. Her blush was returning. "What is special about this Jasmine Tea?" she asked, desperate for a change in topic.
Iroh cleared his throat, still not quite meeting her eyes. The topic of tea, however, was apparently able to restore him some sense of dignity. "This particular shop sells a very extraordinary jasmine tea that is rolled up into small pearls using the leaves and buds of jasmine flowers. It's a strong tea, with a subtle sweetness to it."
He was looking far too comfortable after Asami had made such a fool of herself. Oh well, she thought, nothing to lose now. She rested her chin on her hand, giving him a coy look over the flickering lights on the table. "And what, exactly, does that say about me?"
Iroh smiled, his eyes darkening as he met her challenging gaze. "Well, Jasmine tea is a green tea, meaning you are strong of character, but you can hide it well. The jasmine flowers add a touch of sweetness, indicating that you are kind and caring, but not so much that it diminishes your strength."
"Is that so?"
"Yes," he affirmed, leaning closer now. "And the dragon pearls are a sign of great strength of character and steadfastness in the heart of danger." She was subconsciously moving closer to him too, and could almost feel the heat of his gaze. "And they are also a sign of great beauty."
"Great beauty?"
"Unparalleled beauty," he affirmed, now just centimeters from her lips. She saw his eyes flicker down to her mouth and she tilted her head slightly, giving silent permission for him to move just a bit closer and…
"Here are your teas!"
Asami sprung back as if bitten by a lion snake and knocked her knee on the underside of the table, swearing loudly. At the startled look from the waiter and her companion, she bit her lip and lowered her voice, apologizing. She had picked up some cruder language from the workers she learned from while tending to her own racecars, but she normally did a much better job at keeping her tone appropriately ladylike in public.
Iroh's eyes crinkled at the edges and his mouth twitched up into a smirk, causing her to relax. "Thank you," he directed at the waiter, helping him hand a cup and steaming pot across the table in front of Asami.
"Wait!" Asami cried, just as the waiter was about to turn and leave. "I have a quick question." He turned towards her and eyed her warily. "What can you tell me about ginseng tea?"
Across the table, Iroh raised an eyebrow at her as he poured himself a steaming cup of tea.
"Our ginseng is an herbal blend, with spices imported from the Fire Nation," the waiter began slowly. "It is a spicier variety of tea, and is very difficult to dull with sugar. Our blend adds just a pinch of dried fruit to add a sweeter flavor to it, but it is very subtle compared to the spices."
"What is it usually used for?" Asami pressed.
"Uhm, well," the waiter looked distinctly uncomfortable now, but continued. "The ginseng plant is often used for…well…particular enhancements and virility."
She frowned, unsure of the waiter's meaning. "What sorts of enhancements?"
The man blushed bright crimson before stuttering, "Particular male…body part enhancements, my lady."
Iroh choked violently on his tea, dropping the cup into his saucer with a loud clatter. He hastily grabbed his napkin to clean up the tea while the waiter made a hasty escape.
Across the table, Asami burst into laughter. She gasped for air, putting a hand on her chest and doubling over. She couldn't help it! The answer had been so unexpected, and the general's response so embarrassed. She hadn't seen him so flustered since she had found him dangling from an Equalist flag on Avatar Aang's statue, pleading with her to help him get down.
Iroh glared at her as she straightened up, still chuckling under her breath. Everything she had been taught in her twenty years of life said that she should apologize to the general right now, and to act appropriately for a lady of her rank.
"Let me try it," she said instead, reaching over to grab his still steaming cup of tea and pull it closer towards her. Her father's voice echoed in her head, telling her that a lady would never reach over and try another's food, but she quickly banished it.
"I'm not sure that will have quite the same effect on you." Iroh remarked dryly, cheeks still red with embarrassment.
"A shame, women can also use enhancements."
"I think you're perfect the way you are."
Asami took a deep sip of the tea, using the cup to hide her smile. The tea was delicious, light and subtly flavorful. The spices danced on her tongue, leaving a pleasant aftertaste.
She pushed the cup back towards him. "Since you have kindly told me what my choice of tea says about me, it's only fair that I return the favor."
"If you say one thing about bed sports-"
"It means-" she began, effectively cutting him off. The general gave her a look that could only be described as a mix of a pout and a glare and she briefly wondered if his grandfather ever did anything like that. Surely not. She cleared her throat and started again.
"It means that you are strong and bright, like the Fire Nation spices in the ginseng tea. You are determined and easy to follow, making you a good leader and fantastic general. You are stubborn and powerful, but you have a good heart underneath it all."
Iroh smiled. "I have always thought that jasmine and ginseng were two very well matched teas."
"Well matched?" Asami busied herself with taking a sip from her own cup, trying to quell the giddiness threatening to rise in her chest.
The general blushed and cleared his throat. "I mean that the teas are similar, have similar characteristics. My grandfather said they were his two favorite teas."
"Your grandfather seems like a wise man, I'm sure he would know." Asami could still taste the spiciness of the ginseng on her tongue, and briefly wondered what it would be like to taste the ginseng on his tongue.
"What I mean is, well…" Iroh swore and her eyes widened. He put down his tea and reached over the table, grabbing her hands in his and looking straight into her eyes. "I think you are incredible, Asami. You're smart and kind and determined, and you challenge me like nobody else can. When you were in the South Pole, I counted the days until you came back." He smiled wryly. "And then I counted the days until it would be appropriate to ask you to tea. And now it seems like all that time was gone in the blink of an eye, with the way that you make me feel eclipsing everything else."
"How do I make you feel?" She knew she felt like she was floating, and she wanted—needed—him to feel the same.
He took a breath. "Anxious like when I'm sitting on the deck of my ship, waiting for battle. Completely distracted and entranced whenever you're around. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met, and each moment I spend with you I never want to end."
Asami knew she could never top that proclamation. Instead, she abandoned all ladylike virtue her father had taught her and leaned across the table, sealing his lips with hers.
Moments passed and she knew of nothing else, not the murmur of customers in the shop or the slow flicker of light from the candles. Only the soft feeling of the general's lips moving against hers and the heat slowly rising in her chest. One of his hands reached up to her cheek, thumb brushing against her cheekbone. She shivered in response, reaching around the back of his neck to draw herself closer.
When they finally drew apart, both with color in their cheeks and eyes still locked on each other, she smiled. "You're right," she said. "Jasmine and ginseng tea go very well together."
Summary: They're two brothers sitting in their pajamas at almost five in the morning and Mako is ready to have a panic attack because he thinks he doesn't know how to be a father, which is about the most ridiculous thing Bolin's ever heard. Mako and Bolin have a little chat.
Notes: Bros being bros. This is totally canon, by the way.
Excerpt:
"Whutimizzit?"
Bolin's muttering nonsense, rolling out of bed, looking at the clock before he's even really awake. Answering his own question – too early for this (whatever this turns out to be) – he takes a moment to let his head stop spinning, then stumbles through his apartment in the dark to the front door, where someone is pounding so loudly and obnoxiously they may as well be hammering on the inside of his skull. On the way there he scuffs his foot, trips, and catches himself on the doorknob, using it to pull himself up and then twisting it, opening the door.
"Mako?" he mumbles in a rough voice as he rubs his eye. "What're you doin' here?"
His older brother is pale and nervous-looking, jacket unfastened, fidgeting with the scarf dangling haphazardly from his neck. "Morning, bro," he says. He offers Bolin this weird, strained sort of smile. "I, uh, couldn't sleep."
Bolin leans against the door, shakes his head, still processing. "'S… 's four in the mornin'."
Mako winces, apologetic. "I know."
Bo's eyebrows are pulled so close together and so low he can actually see them. After a few seconds, he blinks once, hard, opens his eyes wide, turns and walks back inside, leaving the door open as a wordless invitation. Behind him, he dimly hears Mako accept, closing it.
While he flicks on some lights, Mako sits down on the edge of the couch, rubbing his hands on his knees. Bolin grabs half-blindly for a chair from the kitchenette and drags it across the room, plopping down on it as soon as he gets the chance.
"All right, what's the problem?" he says, ruffling the hair on the back of his head. "Is it Korra?"
There's a long moment of silence before Mako speaks, and when he does it's to the floor: "Korra… she, uh… she thinks… Korra might be pregnant."
More silence.
Well, that explains a lot.
Read the rest on FF.net or hit the break to continue:
"Whutimizzit?"
Bolin's muttering nonsense, rolling out of bed, looking at the clock before he's even really awake. Answering his own question – too early for this (whatever this turns out to be) – he takes a moment to let his head stop spinning, then stumbles through his apartment in the dark to the front door, where someone is pounding so loudly and obnoxiously they may as well be hammering on the inside of his skull. On the way there he scuffs his foot, trips, and catches himself on the doorknob, using it to pull himself up and then twisting it, opening the door.
"Mako?" he mumbles in a rough voice as he rubs his eye. "What're you doin' here?"
His older brother is pale and nervous-looking, jacket unfastened, fidgeting with the scarf dangling haphazardly from his neck. "Morning, bro," he says. He offers Bolin this weird, strained sort of smile. "I, uh, couldn't sleep."
Bolin leans against the door, shakes his head, still processing. "'S… 's four in the mornin'."
Mako winces, apologetic. "I know."
Bo's eyebrows are pulled so close together and so low he can actually see them. After a few seconds, he blinks once, hard, opens his eyes wide, turns and walks back inside, leaving the door open as a wordless invitation. Behind him, he dimly hears Mako accept, closing it.
While he flicks on some lights, Mako sits down on the edge of the couch, rubbing his hands on his knees. Bolin grabs half-blindly for a chair from the kitchenette and drags it across the room, plopping down on it as soon as he gets the chance.
"All right, what's the problem?" he says, ruffling the hair on the back of his head. "Is it Korra?"
There's a long moment of silence before Mako speaks, and when he does it's to the floor: "Korra… she, uh… she thinks… Korra might be pregnant."
More silence.
Well, that explains a lot.
Bolin nods slowly. Deciding this is a conversation he doesn't want to have in only his underwear, he gets up and he leaves the room and leaves Mako sitting there with his head bowed and as he pulls on some pants, he wakes up the rest of the way and lets the information settle in his mind, turning it over.
Back in the living room he collapses back into the chair and says, "Okay, okay, say that again for me, just to clarify, I wanna make sure I'm not imagining things."
With a heavy sigh, the same one that used to sound exasperated but now just comes out like he's having trouble breathing, Mako swipes a hand across his face. "Korra thinks she might be pregnant," he repeats.
Bo slumps, sitting back. "Wow."
"Yeah."
Finally then it hits him, for real – Mako and Korra are having a baby, a little mini-person, pieces of them put together – Bolin's going to be an uncle – and he feels his own grin split his face. "Wow, that's fantastic, Mako!" he says in a near-shout, jumping over to the couch to wrap his arms tight around his brother's shoulders.
Mako looks sideways at him, still pale, still drawn. "You really think so?" he says.
His grip slackens. "Don't you?"
"Of course I do, it's just –" His gaze darts away, head turning to follow, and his sigh is more of an exhale, there's no real vocal part to it. "I don't know."
They're quiet again. Bolin removes his arm so their shoulders and elbows are pressed together. Not so gangly anymore, he thinks, the two of them. No more dirty forearms blackened and battered by the streets, no more elbows rubbed raw by the cold, no more bloody scrapes gone untreated. They've both got muscles spread tight beneath their skin; Mako's thinner, leaner, like he's always been (nah, Bo, it's okay, you can have it, I'm not hungry anyway; you go ahead and start without me, Bo, I can wait a while; go on, Bo, eat up, that's yours – always Bo first, as if he was afraid he'd forget his own name, even as his shirt hung three sizes too big and his stomach snarled like a wild animal), but Mako's stronger than he looks. He and Bolin share the same calluses on their hands, the pads of their fingers, and Mako's got those scars webbing across his palms, exposed to him now because he's not wearing his gloves. Keep it hidden, he said, keep hidden.
Mako's stronger than he looks. That's an advantage, but also a front, and Bolin forgets sometimes that even if his big brother doesn't look as strong as he is, he's also weaker than he seems, and it's times like this that remind him.
So he waits. He's patient. He'll sit here all day if he has to.
But he doesn't.
"I mean, it's something we've talked about," Mako says at length, "and it's something we both want –"
"Kids, you mean."
He closes his eyes, nodding, hesitates before he continues. "But we're not, we weren't, we haven't been – trying," he says, not giving Bolin the chance to finish his sentence. "We don't really know if now's the right time or if we're ready and…" Another deep breath. "I'm not sure how to feel about it."
The last time Mako looked like this – Bo can barely even remember, it must've been years ago, years and years, before – he's not sure what the results are, but he's sure they're not good. Either way, he knows he's got to step up, be the big brother for once, be the Mako.
Problem is, he kind of sucks at being Mako, which is why he likes to be Bolin instead (that was a lesson that took him way too long to learn). It comes easier to him, and honestly, it's a lot more fun. But Mako needs him, and there are no excuses. They're brothers, after all.
"Well…" He casts around for the right thing to say, latches onto it once he finds it, drifting off near the ring on Mako's finger. "How does Korra feel about it?"
"She's…" Mako rubs his hands together, weaves his fingers. "Surprised, I guess – we both are. Obviously. I'm here, aren't I? But I think she's… holding off on deciding what to think until we know for sure. Nothing's solid, yet, it's just suspicion at this point."
"Right."
"But if she is pregnant, I think she'll be… she'll be happy about it. She wants kids. I know she does. And I know she'll be a great mother."
"Yeah."
He falls back into silence then and Bolin's patient but patience isn't what Mako needs right now.
"Come on, bro, out with it," he says, and in contrast to the words his tone's soft.
Mako leans forward ducks his head, locking his laced fingers on the back of his neck, arms hanging down, and there's something in the tense line in his shoulders and spine, the one of pride and dignity they managed to pick up from the corners of alleys, that tells Bolin there's going to be an explosion before there is one. (Later, when he's a bit more coherent, he'll wonder if "bro" was the trigger, and he won't really want to know the answer.)
"How the hell am I supposed to be a father?" he says, snapping back up. "How am I supposed to father someone – a person, a baby, my baby, my kid, my responsibility – when I've never even really had one? You know," – the way Mako's eyebrows slant and his eyes crinkle up and his mouth shakes and he just looks broken for a second, it twists Bo's heart – "I barely even remember Mom and Dad anymore. Their faces. I haven't been able to remember their voices since I was thirteen. I don't think it's possible, but they – it's like they just keep slipping further and further away and there's nothing I can do to stop it."
What, then, Bolin wonders, were all those memories Mako once told him about, makeshift bedtime stories, when they used hunger for pillows and shadows for blankets? No, he tells himself, next, that was before.
"When you have a kid, you're supposed to have somebody to turn to," says Mako. "Somebody who you can tell, 'hey, you're going to be a grandfather!' Somebody to ask for advice – somebody to ask for help." His voice cracks, just slightly, and Bo can hardly stand to meet his eyes (help, somebody, someone, please help, help him, he's my brother–). "I don't have that, I can't – it's not like I can go to Tonraq, he hates me," (that's a lie) "he'll think I'm pathetic if I can't even take care of my own kid" (that's not) "and Tenzin's been great to us, he really has, but he's not – he's not our dad."
That's not a lie, either. It takes Bolin a moment to regain his voice. "I know." He realizes he's clenching his jaw, does nothing to change it.
Mako tugs at his hair. "I can't be a dad, Bolin, I'm not ready, I don't know how," he says.
They stare at each other in the dim light; out the window, far in the distance, the horizon is beginning to lighten, and they're two brothers sitting in their pajamas in an apartment at (a glance to the clock) almost five in the morning, and Mako – level-headed, clear-sighted, cool under fire Mako – is ready to have a panic attack because Korra might be pregnant and he thinks he doesn't know how to be a father.
Bolin does the only thing that makes sense: He laughs.
He laughs so hard and so loud he's a little worried the neighbors are going to complain. The look on Mako's face isn't helping, a mix of frustrated and confused and offended and indignant, and every time he catches sight of it, when he's on the brink of stopping, he starts up again. He laughs because it's funny and stupid. He laughs because he's Bolin and that's what Bolins do, they laugh at funny and stupid things, and maybe he laughs because he's an adult and he's not completely blind, never really was, to how wrong it was, still is (he remembers trying to hate firebenders and then realizing properly that Mako's a firebender and – oh, well, nevermind, you're not one of the bad guys), and he just needs an excuse to wipe some tears from his eyes.
"Mako… oh, man." Bo looks at him, grinning. "You're really serious, aren't you?"
Mako's frown is quickly evolving into a scowl. "Yes, I'm serious, Bolin. What the hell is so funny?"
Bolin grips his shoulder. His hands are bigger than Mako's, he thinks, or maybe they're the same size. Smiling now, the toothiness gone from it, he pulls Mako into a rough, tight hug.
"Bo, what –" he says, disarmed, but his arms go around him by instinct.
Mouth buried in his brother's shoulder, it's muffled, but close enough to his ear for him to hear: "You're going to do just fine, bro."
"Yeah?" Breathy and gruff. "What makes you say that?"
He pulls back, keeps his hands on his biceps, near the elbows.
"Mako," – and he hasn't been for many years but that doesn't mean it's not true, doesn't mean it's not a fact – "you're the best father I've ever had."
For a couple seconds, Mako just blinks at him. Then the blinks start to come faster and he hugs him again, tighter, if that's possible, almost painfully, so that it's hard to breathe – but it's the good kind of hurt, the good kind of not being able to breathe, the best kind, especially when he leans back, grabs Bolin's head (heels of his hands on the sides of his cheekbones, palms cupping his ears, fingers reaching around to the back), tilts it down and kisses the top of it before setting his chin on Bo's shoulder, a hand at the nape of his neck. He has a brief moment of when was the last time that he gives up on quickly – before, he's sure, but that's the past – it doesn't matter, he's doing it now, that's the important part, the new memories are what matter – the new memories they're going to have with Mako and Korra's kid – Mako's kid, Mako's going to be a dad, that's so weird to think of, or it should be, except it's not, not really. Not to Bolin. Mako's going to be a dad. No, that seems right.
One final squeeze and they break apart with a lot of manly back-slapping and throat-clearing and nose-rubbing and eye-wiping.
"Thanks, bro," Mako says, and neither of them will look at the other but he knows the words are sincere.
"Don't mention it," Bolin mutters, even though it goes unspoken that there are some things that need to stay between brothers.
They glance at each other and away, laughing.
He stands. So does Mako.
Bolin says, "Do you, uh, do you want me to make some breakfast?"
"Uh, no, I should probably –" Mako jerks his thumb toward the door.
"Yeah, go home."
Bo walks him out. They linger in the hall.
"So keep me posted, all right?" he says.
"You bet," Mako says, and why can't either of them stop smiling? "Nothing's definite yet, but you'll be the first to know. If not now, then…"
He lets it trail off unfinished; again, it goes without saying.
"Good."
Another pause.
"You know, Bo, I don't know if it matters," says Mako, "but I think you're going to make a great uncle."
His throat closes up, but Bolin keeps grinning. "Great enough to name the baby after me?"
Mako chuckles, rolling his eyes. "I'll mention it to Korra. Put in a good word for you."
"Thanks."
His face softens. "You, too." He ruffles Bolin's hair just because he can (you're really tall, will I ever be as tall as you?), and Bolin ducks away. "Love you, little bro."
Fixing his hair, still with a smile. "Love you back, big bro."
Mako smacks his arm. "See you soon."
"Yeah." And once Mako's turned the corner and Bolin's closed the door: "See you soon."
Summary: The hardest thing for Katara was dealing with the fact that Korra was so much like Aang
Notes: :(
Excerpt:
The first time Katara sees the new Avatar, it is when she is visiting a couple of her old students. Senna and Tonraq have just had a baby, and while Katara, unfortunately, missed the birth, having been too busy mourning her husband, she is determined to see the child soon. When she steps into the igloo, already adorned with baby toys and mini parkas, the first thing she sees is Senna bent over a cradle, smiling much like she had when Kya was born.
"I hope I am not interrupting anything," Katara begins, taking in the new mother's joy.
"Oh, no, Sifu. We are honored that you visited us during this happy time," Tonraq replies, from his spot in the corner, where he had been admiring his wife and child.
They usher her over to the crib, where the baby is playing, all smiles and bright eyes. When she bends over the little girl, the grin stirs something inside of her.
"We named her Korra," Senna says, an awed look gracing her face. She is clearly in love with her child.
"It's a wonderful name," Katara replies, already enamored by the endearing bundle in front of her. "Korra."
For some reason, her heart beats a little faster when she says Korra, just like it did everytime she saw Aang. She knows he has come back to her.
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The first time Katara sees the new Avatar, it is when she is visiting a couple of her old students. Senna and Tonraq have just had a baby, and while Katara, unfortunately, missed the birth, having been too busy mourning her husband, she is determined to see the child soon. When she steps into the igloo, already adorned with baby toys and mini parkas, the first thing she sees is Senna bent over a cradle, smiling much like she had when Kya was born.
"I hope I am not interrupting anything," Katara begins, taking in the new mother's joy.
"Oh, no, Sifu. We are honored that you visited us during this happy time," Tonraq replies, from his spot in the corner, where he had been admiring his wife and child.
They usher her over to the crib, where the baby is playing, all smiles and bright eyes. When she bends over the little girl, the grin stirs something inside of her.
"We named her Korra," Senna says, an awed look gracing her face. She is clearly in love with her child.
"It's a wonderful name," Katara replies, already enamored by the endearing bundle in front of her. "Korra."
For some reason, her heart beats a little faster when she says Korra, just like it did everytime she saw Aang. She knows he has come back to her.
The next time Katara runs into Korra, she is with Kya, Bumi, and Tenzin in the center of town, reminiscing about Aang. His death anniversary is tomorrow, and she wanted to spend it children, but being too old to travel, they came to her. At the moment, they are out buying groceries for the meal planned for tomorrow. In the distance, they hear a childish laugh.
"Mommy, mommy! Look what I can do!"
Turning around, she sees a weary, yet happy Senna look on, as a young girl, not more than three or four, engulfs herself in a snowman shape. Katara's children notice the action too, and all three smile sadly, as childhood memories of a laughing father turning three bouncing kids into snowmen surface.
"Korra, we need to buy food for your birthday. Do you want all of your friends to hungry at your party tomorrow," Senna states, clearly exhausted but relishing every moment of her daughter's presence.
Tenzin is the first to catch on, but his connection with his father had always been strongest. He turns to his mother with wide eyes. Kya and Bumi quickly follow suit, questioning glances all directed in Katara's direction.
"That's her, isn't it," Tenzin murmurs, still watching the toddler leap around the marketplace.
"That's dad," Bumi states sorrowfully, feeling the full force of emotion rushing back to him as if his father had magically appeared in front of him.
"Yes," Katara says slowly, as if testing her words in her mind first. "That is your father, but he is now a three year old girl whose birthday is tomorrow, and who does not yet know that she has the weight of the world on her shoulders. We can enjoy him-her, sorry- from a distance for now, but when she is revealed, you all can meet her and see him in her. Let her have a childhood for right now."
She doesn't know that the fateful day will come in just over a year, and that they will be shocked at how similar, but different they are. Aang and Korra are the same, but could not be more opposite at the same time. Katara doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. In the end, in the privacy of her rooms in the compound, she does both.
At the beginning of the first waterbending lesson with Korra, Katara was anxious, not knowing how to teach her. Whether to act like she was Aang, or to pretend that Aang is inhabiting someone else, and not the girl in front of her. She ended up crying when Korra managed to master the push and pull technique. She was so much like Aang.
At the beginning of her second lesson, Katara promises herself to not let herself cry, not matter how much Korra resembles the love of her life. She loses it somewhere while Korra is pretending to be an octopus.
Before the third lesson can start, Korra asks an unexpected question.
"Sifu Katara, do you not want to teach me?"
For a moment, the waterbending master is in shock over how a four year old could ask such a question. Then she crouches down and holds Korra by the shoulder.
"No, Korra. I do not hate you. Why would you ask such a question," Katara inquires.
"Well, everytime I start waterbending, you cry. I think that's because you don't want to see me waterbending, which would mean you don't want to teach me," Korra explains, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Korra, you know who the last Avatar was," Katara starts, finding a more comfortable position sitting on the ground, with the child curled up on her lap, "He was my husband, and I loved him very much, but for you to be born, he had to die. So yes, sometimes I get sad, because I miss him a lot, but I wouldn't want him to come back if it means losing you. And yes, I want to teach you, because you remind me of him every day, and that's why I start crying."
"Ok," Korra jumped off of Katara's lap, "But if I make you want to cry again, just tell me, and I'll stop acting like your husband."
Katara chuckles at the four year old perception of what she just said, and as they moved on with their waterbending forms, she thinks that Korra is just like Aang. Never able to read between the lines, whether they be four or forty.
After her firebending test, after Tenzin's visit, after seeing the despair on Korra's face when she realized that she would be locked in the compound/prison until Tenzin deemed it fit to start training her in airbending, she knew what the Avatar would do. Katara knew Aang, and he would do exactly what his successor was preparing for. So, Katara made her way down to the stable where Naga lived, and waited until the seventeen year old realized who was standing behind her.
"Nice night for an escape."
She missed Aang, she missed him so much, and seeing Korra grow up, all the while unwittingly acting just like him, made her heart ache. However, Korra was not Aang, no matter how much her tendencies screamed otherwise, and Korra needed what was best for Korra.
So, Katara decided to aid her in her quest for freedom, the missing element, the reason why she had never been able to airbend. She sent her off with encouraging words and a smile that told her to run and not look back. But inside Katara was breaking. She couldn't do it again. She couldn't send Aang away from her again. Every cell in her body screamed for her to not to let her soul mate go, but she had to let Korra live her life.
But, as Korra sped away from the compound that had been her jail for thirteen years, she felt an odd pulling sensation to go back. Not to the place, that she certainly didn't, and wouldn't, miss. She missed Katara, and suddenly she realized why she had felt an odd bond with the older waterbender all these years. She was Aang, and Aang was her, and Aang fit perfectly with Katara. The thousand voices in her heart told her not to let the love of all of their lives go, but her brain told her to keep going. And for once, she didn't give in to her desires, but she continued on towards her final destination. For Korra knew, deep down, that she would find her Katara in Republic City.
