The party was wrapping up. The press had mostly disbursed, carriages were driving away, and Tenzin had taken Korra aside while his wife and children headed for the entrance. Tarrlok realized he'd have to act fast – he would never have such a perfect opportunity as he had tonight.
"Pema's rounded up the kids," he heard Tenzin say.
"You go on home. I'll catch up later."
Tenzin frowned, guessing her motive for avoiding him. Tarrlok waited, impatiently but without worry – Tenzin may be Korra's Airbending master, but he had no authority over her or power to make her obey him in any matters outside of her training, and he knew this. "Are you sure?" he asked pointlessly.
"Yes. Take the kids home, I'll be fine."
Her mentor sighed in resignation, obviously knowing from experience that arguing with her would do no good. "All right, but there are some things we need to talk about later."
"There's nothing to talk about," Korra said sternly before he walked away, leaving her alone.
Tarrlok waited until the Airbender was out of sight before approaching the Avatar. "Your master must be so proud of you, finally finding the courage to stand up to Amon." He saw her flinch at the words "master" and "finding the courage," exactly as he wanted. "The city will be thrilled when they hear your news in the morning."
"I'll show them news – when I take down these Equalists once and for all," she said defiantly, her head turned aside as if looking at the future.
"It won't take long," he assured her. "We start tomorrow." He put his left arm around her shoulders again, more gently than he had during her announcement, like a friend offering support. "It's time we showed this city what their Avatar can do. Once they see you've finally joined the fight against these revolutionaries, they'll never doubt you again. By this time next month, you'll be as great a hero as Avatar Aang." He saw the self-doubt in her eyes begin to be replaced with hope and, more importantly, gratitude. To hammer it home, he added, "I always knew you'd do the right thing. With you on my team, the Equalists don't stand a chance." That did it – she knew who she owed for this chance to prove herself.
"I won't let you down," she said firmly, looking not at him but straight ahead, her eyes narrowed in anger against the enemy. It didn't matter – in her mind, it was his task force and his plans that had given her the means to fight back. She trusted him, she had joined him, and, even if she wasn't conscious of it, she was grateful to him – the perfect foundation for what he wanted to build.
"I know you won't," he said, glad that it wasn't necessary to conceal the hungry look in his eyes from her. He hadn't had anything like this in mind when he'd first made his plans. He truly had expected her from the beginning to jump at the chance to join him as soon as he asked; when she had turned him down and he realized she wouldn't be so easy to woo, he thought of her for the first time not as the Avatar and a means to gain more power but as a woman. He found that he anticipated the challenge of pursuing her for his task force with the same relish with which he pursued a woman for his bed, and it wasn't long before the line between the two became blurred and then vanished. Any man, of course, would have found her desirable, with her perfectly toned muscles, strong and slender build, incredible chest, sparkling aqua eyes, and beautiful brown skin. But she was so young and his mind had been so focused on other matters that he probably wouldn't have noticed any of that if it hadn't been for other things: her power, her strength, her stubborn will, her resistance, her defiance that made him need to overpower her, break her, subdue her to his will in the fiercest way possible. If he could defeat the Avatar, the most powerful human being on the planet, in such a way, he would prove, if only to himself, that he was the most powerful man in the world. He had to have her, and, between her mindset, the location, and the evening's events, conditions were ideal tonight.
The irony of it was that, if it hadn't been for the fear of detection and punishment, he could have had what he wanted the second he first wanted it. He'd often wondered during his courtship, not in frustration but simply with idle curiosity, how the Avatar would react if she knew that all it would take was a flick of his wrist and she'd be entirely in his power, his to do with as he pleased, helpless to stop him! But even if there had been no risk involved, he wouldn't have done it that way. Where would the fun be in that? He wanted her to submit to him fully, not resist to the point that he had to resort to such crude methods. He could touch her without feeling tempted to bend her nerves and muscles to his will. No, what he had in mind was far more subtle. There was more than one way to bend blood, as Korra would learn tonight without ever realizing it.
"What's next?" she asked, in response to his last statement.
Tarrlok smiled at his secret literal answer before removing his arm from her shoulders and saying out loud, "We'll talk about that tomorrow. It's getting late – you should head home and get a good's night sleep." As he expected, she bristled at being spoken to like a child. "Tenzin will have my head if I keep you here too long." She folded her arms in annoyance and looked in the direction her mentor and his family had gone. "I'm sure he has a lot he wishes to discuss with you before we begin. You'll have to talk it over with him as soon as possible." Korra sighed, obviously not looking forward to going home tonight; he could sense her heart pounding with dread at the thought of all the lectures and advice and arguments she would be forced to endure and, he hoped, willing to do anything to postpone it. To make sure, he added, "Don't keep him waiting too long – he probably has much he'd like to talk to you about."
"I don't," she said laconically before they both saw the last few remaining reporters begin making their way towards them, hoping to get one last quote or shot before calling it a night. "Ugh, not again," she groaned at the thought of having to answer any more questions.
Tarrlok put his arm protectively around her again and led her away from them. "It's been a long night," he said sympathetically. "Why don't you come back to my place and relax for a while before heading home? You deserve a short break after all this excitement."
He had been closely monitoring the movements of her blood and heart throughout the conversation, honing in on his targets so that he would be ready to seize control when the right moment came (not of her limbs, just of her blood). It came now. He sensed the relief she instinctively felt at the possibility of temporary escape from prying reporters and mentors alike. This would have been succeeded by surprise at the very least as the impropriety of the suggestion sank in, but he didn't let it. At the moment when her heart would have leaped in shock and her blood have rushed to her cheeks, he stopped it. He kept her heart and her blood pumping through her body at a normal pace, and her body's true reaction to the suggestion never came. He could see her confusion as her mind felt one thing and her body another. He didn't know what she was thinking, but he knew she felt perfectly calm – because he had made her so: no sweaty palms, no pounding heart, no racing blood, no blush, none of the usual physical signs a person experienced when they felt either shy or upset. Physically, she was completely untroubled by his suggestion. The only conclusion she could draw was that there was no reason to let it bother her. She felt no offense; all she could feel was the relief.
Still, her mind was entirely her own, and she answered, albeit reluctantly, "I don't know."
"It's the least I can do in return for all your help," he said, as if the only reason for her hesitation could be fear of imposing on him.
She started to believe it, too. "Thanks, but..."
Tarrlok shrugged as if it was of no concern to him. "Perhaps you're right. I understand if you're afraid that Tenzin would object..."
Her fury over the insinuation that she was both afraid and a child, already stoked nicely by the preceding conversation, flared up and assured his victory. "Forget Tenzin," she asserted. "Let's get out of here."
"Yes, let's," he agreed. As he offered her his arm, he switched the rhythm of her heart to that of nervousness or shyness. She connected the change with his gesture and, as he predicted, took his arm to prove he didn't make her the least bit nervous.
She let him lead her out of the building and down the steps to the street. Fortunately, Tarrlok lived close enough to City Hall to walk and didn't have to worry about any driver telling tales, only let oblivious passersby see him escorting her home (where else?). He pressed her arm more closely to him, too slightly to seem intentional, but it still would have felt awkward to her except that, once again, he kept her blood moving as calmly and steadily as if it was no big deal. Physically, her body felt perfectly comfortable, and if her mind felt uncomfortable about being so close to him, she could only conclude she was being paranoid and that there was no reason for it. He had no fear Korra would suspect what was really going on: it wasn't a full moon, she didn't know what it felt like to have your blood bent, she had no idea he was a Bloodbender, and even less an idea of the motive behind it – the truth would never even cross her mind. He talked eagerly with her about his plans for their task force, and she soon forgot her reservations and enjoyed the walk.
His servants all slept out (he liked his privacy), so his house was empty when they arrived. He pulled a chair out for her at the table and told her to make herself at home. She asked him some neutral questions about the Northern Water Tribe as he prepared a pot of tea, and he answered them and segued into asking her about the South Pole and how she was adjusting to city life.
"How is your Pro-Bending team doing?" Tarrlok asked as he poured their tea, remembering how enviously she had glared at the Firebender and his new girlfriend all night.
"Okay, I guess," Korra answered flippantly, not wanting to pursue the subject. Promising, but he would prefer if her jealousy was a little hotter. He'd have to help fan it, which he could do with more than words. He couldn't directly control emotions, but every emotion triggered a physical reaction in the body, which the brain learned to recognize from experience. By controlling the body's physical reactions, he could encourage the mind to feel the associated emotion by the power of suggestion. Here and now, her heart and blood no longer responded naturally to her thoughts and emotions but to his will, no matter what she was thinking or feeling. Her body would act as angry or nervous or calm or weak or scared or fearless as he desired.
"How fortunate that Asami Sato convinced her father to sponsor you!" he observed. "You owe her a lot. I'm sure your friends are very grateful to her." He watched her indifferent expression morph into a scowl, and he pumped her blood speedily through her veins so that her body felt angrier than she really was. It wasn't long before her emotions caught up with the change and ran with it. "She and your friend make a nice couple." She said nothing, but he liked the way she clenched her fist in frustration. He didn't know whether she'd ever consciously thought of her teammate the way Tarrlok had thought of her, but her subconscious wouldn't see a difference once he offered her an outlet for that frustration. "I'll try not to interfere with your preparation for the tournament; I expect you'll be practicing a lot."
"I've had enough of Pro-Bending," Korra said icily. "They're on their own from now on."
"Oh," Tarrlok said shortly, as if at a loss for words.
"If he thinks Asami Sato's so wonderful, let her fight in the tournament with them! Who does she think she is?! She has some nerve!" And she continued to rant at length about that prissy Asami Sato and how she didn't deserve Mako and how they were all idiots and, next time, she wouldn't be around to save them, unable to stop herself because she was unable to calm down. Her fist eventually burst into flames as she slammed it down on his table, putting an abrupt end to her rant. In spite of her rage, she remembered where she was and realized how she must have sounded. "I... I'm sorry, I just... I didn't mean to..."
"It's all right," he said gently, refilling her cup. "It's all right." He smiled at her as if in silent sympathy for a minute, letting her feel grateful to him for allowing her to vent and for not judging her or pestering her with questions or advice. He did, however, eventually clear his throat and say, "You shouldn't let it bother you so much."
"I know."
"You deserve much better," he said, slowing down her blood so that it did indeed no longer seem to bother her as much, thanks to his praise.
"Thanks," she said awkwardly, blushing with no help from him.
He raised his cup towards her and winked. "You've made the right decision," he said, as if ignoring her long description of the reason behind it. "The Avatar's place is defending the city, not playing in some silly game."
He gave her heart a nice tremor at his words, recreating the reaction he'd sensed in her as the press bombarded her with questions about Amon. Inevitably, the fear that had triggered the response then returned now as well. Her limbs started trembling, under his influence, at first, then under her own. Her blood was no longer racing under his volition but hers. Her heart was no longer pounding in his imitation of fear but in her genuine fear, and because it did so, all she could think of was the cause of her fear – how everyone was counting on her to protect them from the Equalists, her doubt that she was good enough, how she couldn't let them down, what Amon would do to her if she failed, how terrifying it had been to have her chi blocked and to see Amon remove those people's Bending.
She thought she was hiding it from him. He let her sit there in silence, determined not to show her fear, as he continued talking about the difficulty and the excitement of the task in store for them, only letting her body's panicked state relax whenever he assured her he knew she was up to the challenge, as if his words were the only thing that could calm her. When he fell silent, she practically begged him, "You really think I can do this?"
"Absolutely," he answered, giving her the calm she expected. She smiled before he sped her heart up again and her terror of what lay ahead resurfaced.
She propped her left elbow on the table and pressed her fingers against her forehead. "What if I'm not up to this?" she moaned and started raving about all her doubts about herself and her decision.
He took her right hand in his and gradually slowed her frantic heart down as he ran his thumb over her knuckles. "It will be all right. I promise, nothing will happen to you."
They sat in silence like that for a bit before she said, "I... I'm sorry. I'm all right now." He withdrew his hand and some of her calm so that she felt reassured but still anxious. "I'm all right," she repeated, trying to make herself believe what he refused to let her feel.
He reached out and stroked her right arm. "Yes," he agreed. "Just relax now, my dear. Just relax." He not only relaxed her body as he spoke but gave her a flutter of pleasure at his touch. He saw confusion flicker across her eyes as her body reacted as if it had nothing to do with her head. She couldn't worry about the feeling or fight it, though, only submit to it.
He kept it up as he continued stroking her arm and talking about his faith in her, how strong and brave he knew she was, how they would teach the Equalists to fear her, how much his team was looking forward to working with her. He let go when she moved to wipe the sweat from her brow and push her hair out of her face. He let her listen and talk uneventfully with him for a while until he touched her shoulder and simultaneously started her heart pounding with inexplicable pleasure again. He repeated this every time he touched her – lifting her chin up, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, turning her face towards him, holding her hand – until she learned to associate his touch with pleasure on her own, when he stood up and put both his hands on her shoulders as he passed behind her and ran them up and down her arms. She didn't understand the feeling, but she didn't need to – she'd learned to accept and expect it.
It was now time for the next step. He slowed her breathing and heart rate down, decreasing the supply of oxygen in her brain and limbs, until she started slumping over the table, rubbing her eyes, and shaking herself awake. "Are you all right?" he asked in the appropriate tone of concern.
"Just tired," she said with a big yawn.
"Yes, you're very tired," he said, stroking her hair. He felt her sink deeper at his words – by now, she'd learned that her body obeyed anything he said. "You'd better head home now. I'll walk you to the ferry."
"Yeah," she agreed and tried to rise but swayed on her feet and sat back down. He didn't try to stop her; he'd made sure she didn't have the energy to go anywhere.
He stood and tried to pull her to her feet. As weak as she was, she obeyed. "Be careful – you're very sleepy." She went limp in his grasp and leaned against him. "Maybe you'd better stay here tonight." He'd made her brain too foggy to clearly consider the situation. "You'd rather stay here tonight, wouldn't you?"
Her body accepted everything he said as true. "Yes," she agreed weakly, feeling as comfortable with the prospect as his voice sounded.
He took her to his bedroom with his arm wrapped around her; she was too tired to question or notice where he took her. He closed the door, and they stood facing each other in the center of the room in the moonlight from the window. He ran his fingers through her hair as he said, "I'm so glad you decided to join me."
"I am, too," she said, smiling at his touch.
"I hope you won't disappoint me."
He set her heart throbbing with fear at his words, which caused her to realize that that would be the most horrifying thing that could happen. "I won't, I won't," she said desperately, her head bowed.
"I know you won't," he said, lifting her chin up and calming her down as he looked into her eyes. "I trust you. You trust me, don't you?"
"Yes..."
"A wise choice," he said, stroking her temple. "You're a brilliant girl." His hand traveled down her face, her neck, her shoulder and her arm. "And so strong. And so beautiful." Her body responded obediently to his touch and praise. "So beautiful..." His hands continued to rove, but when she would have flinched with fear, he stopped her, leaving her nothing but her conditioned sense of pleasure. When he felt her tense up, he whispered, "Just relax," as he made her do so. She soon learned that her emotions were nothing but clay for him to mold as he desired. When he tilted her neck up towards him, she eagerly leaned forward and kissed him. When his mouth traveled down her neck and shoulders, she had no desire to resist. It wasn't until he'd eased her over to the bed that her mind protested violently enough that she went wide-eyed with fear. He couldn't tell whether she was frozen with shock or simply too physically weak to resist.
If her mind consciously objected, there was nothing he could do to stop it – at least, not the same way he stopped and started her emotional reactions. He smiled and said, "Something wrong? You're not afraid, are you?" Her determination to be afraid of nothing, her desire to assert her independence, her wish to be treated as a woman and not a child, her jealous craving for revenge against the boy she had allowed to get away, everything he had made her feel that night, all returned and combined to drive her to respond exactly as he wanted. "You trust me, don't you?" Her disinhibited brain ignored anything in her that wanted to protest and submitted to the sensation of pleasure he sent coursing through her veins. "You won't disappoint me, will you?" Before long, he couldn't have let her go even if he'd wanted to – she wouldn't have let him; she needed his touch. The great Avatar was at his mercy, desperate for him, more thoroughly in his power than she ever would have been as a rebellious, resentful puppet. She bowed to his will, willingly giving him everything he wanted.
When it was over, everything went quiet. He could feel her begin to tense up again as her reason awoke, no doubt, but calmed her down before she could say anything. He held her still next to him, one arm wrapped around her, the other stroking her hair, as her limbs went weak under his influence. When he heard her begin to speak, he whispered, "Shh. Just sleep now, my dear. Just sleep," as she grew weaker and weaker, eventually closing her eyes in surrender.
He was awakened by her stirring next to him the next morning. No doubt she would have bolted awake in horror at her memory of everything she'd done if he'd let her. Instead, he made her wake up feeling perfectly calm. Against her will, her judgment, everything she was conscious of, she was untroubled by what had happened last night. Her body felt so satisfied and relaxed that her mind couldn't remain otherwise for long.
It wasn't until they began to discuss how Tenzin would be looking for her that Tarrlok sent her heart panicking in response to the possibility of anyone finding out. It was she who begged him to keep it a secret, and he graciously promised he would. He'd done nothing illegal (that anyone could prove), only scandalous, but it was a scandal he would prefer to avoid.
He released her from her agonizing fear once she ran into his arms; when he let her go, however, the sensation returned with no prompting from him. Only when he assured her, "You can always trust me, my dear. Everything is fine," simultaneously causing the rhythm of her blood to mimic the soothing tone of his words, did she understand that her relief was supposed to last. Her body was now nothing more than an instrument that would play as he directed it. She knew she was now his to control.
