Book 1: Twilight

The bards sing often of how loving a mortal only leads to a slow and bitter death, fading away until naught is left but a withered shell. What they don't sing of is how a mortal's flame is a bonfire that consumes one's soul. How a love so fleeting can fuel a life for centuries and contain a happiness that transcends time. They don't sing of how it can heal a blackened heart.

But I can speak of these things, for I loved a mortal once. This is the story of how my fate was forever tied to hers.

For all of Korra's life the Dunedain had fought the shadow, ranging through the ruined kingdoms of the North. When she was a child, her grandmother Katara would tell her stories. She'd tell of far off lands and heroic tales from previous Ages and fallen Kingdoms. Korra learned that Estel was a cousin to some obscure degree, and that they could all trace their lineage back to Numenor and the elves who came before. Korra once wondered aloud if that made Lord Elrond family, too. Katara had been very amused.

In her thirtieth year Korra started to join parties of Rangers. Weeks would be spent in the company of just a few as they mapped the wilds and tracked the movements of orcs and goblins. Korra itched to put an arrow into the skulls of those evil creatures, and she enjoyed it every chance she got. She'd lost too many friends and family and every kill was a bit of personal vengeance.

Eventually, she lead her own patrols under the orders of her company's commander, Halbarad. They made sorties into the flooded ruins of Annuminas and once they even dared the treacherous remains of Fornost. But most of that decade was spent near the Shire in a seemingly peaceful patrol. It was deemed so important that only the very best were assigned there, and they were called the Grey Company.

Halbarad gathered them together in her fifty-third year, thirty rangers standing around him. "We ride to Rohan," he said. "We're the best men and women in the North and Elessar needs us."

"The best in all of Middle-earth," Korra boasted. "If he needs us, we'll answer."

Halbarad laughed. "Just what I wanted to hear."

The Company were to travel first to Imladris where Lord Elrond's sons would join them, and then to Rohan to meet with Estel. The night before they set out for Imladris, Korra had a dream. The fire of a forge burning in green eyes and the sound of steel being pounded. A voice whispered in her ear, telling her of a fallen star to the east. Dreams and portents were never to be ignored, but she kept it to herself until she could understand it better.

But when they came to the Paths of the Dead, she forgot about it entirely.

In a time before mortal men woke to the rising of the sun, Asami lived in the West, beneath the light of two enchanted trees. They were the only source of light in the world, save the stars Varda placed in the heavens and any who looked upon them felt that light glow within. It was a time of creation and peace.

But that time faded into memory long ago. The trees were destroyed, and the First Age of the Sun was one of conflict and strife. It was a time that Asami desperately tried to forget.

Elves don't sleep the way mortals do. But they do sleep, and they do dream. And in the first years of the Second Age, Asami started to dream of piercing blue eyes, and dark skin scented like leaves. There was a voice, too, but she could never make out the words. When she woke she longed for something far out of reach.

For millennia, she searched. Not just for the blue eyes, but for a semblance of peace. Asami craved peace. Those conflicts had taken their toll on her, leaving her wary and weary and she sought out any light she could. For a time, she found that peace beneath the golden leaves of Lothlorien, where she turned her skills back to art and invention. Later, she found peace far to the East and the South, where the people called her by different names than the ones she was used to.

When she returned to Lothlorien, the nights were growing long. A Fellowship passed through, carrying a weight of shadow that brought Asami back to memories of fire and ash. After they'd departed, Asami left the woods. Buried in a cave was a chest and when she opened it a sword gleamed in the golden light of Lorien. It felt too familiar in her hands.

Her peace was shattered, but she would defend her home, reluctantly holding a sword again. And if she fell in the process, it was no less than what she deserved.