Dammit, I told myself this would be SHORT. Also I think I found a multi-chapter story. Shooooooot. If I do it, it'll have to wait until after I finish A Crooked House. The butterfly flap that set off this business was Tarrlok agreeing to leave with his brother. The revolution got off to an earlier and slightly adjusted start. And they eventually wound up with a Pemzin-esque situation where the younger lady decides she wants a thing and takes it. In a multi-chapter, the Lieutenant would probably get folded into the romance mix somewhere in the middle, but the story proper would start with pure Amorralok.
We stood together. If nothing else, I was certain our goals were noble and just. Bending had its uses, and there was no need for it to cause harm. But it did. What good had bending done that it hadn't undone a hundred times over? What could one kind bender do against an army of their brethren spreading pain and misery across the world? Nobody knew what was wrong with bending as well as we did. No, something had to be done. It was simple, really. Anyone with the ability must have arrived at the same conclusion, but there might not ever have been a bloodbender as skilled as we were. All we had to do was destroy bending.
It couldn't be permanent, of course. We could only block bending as we found it, and trying to control coming generations would be an impossible task. But we would take the bending from everyone living. Control a small area, expand outward. Spread our rule and philosophy, collect followers into an unstoppable force. Finally when the world had changed, we could change. I could visualize it. Face to face, each with a thumb on the other's forehead. One simultaneous push with our bending, and we would be just like the others. What we had done couldn't be undone. Tarrlok sometimes whispered that we could return to our mother, and I found myself beginning to miss the happiness she had brought to our home. Perhaps we could live simply as a mother and her sons. A real family.
The South Pole was a logical place to start. Nobody to recognize us, understand what we were. And indeed, there was even a fortified building that seemed designed to suit our needs. It was too perfect. Strike before they knew there was a even a threat and dig in so deep they'd never take us down. Nothing went wrong. Nearly everyone in the fort was a bender, and none seemed trained to deal with chi blockers. There were deaths, but they were unavoidable. My brother and I began to move through the captured prisoners, locking their bending away. We hadn't gotten far before our Lieutenant approached us, carrying a struggling young child under his arm. That was startling.
"You need to see this. I found her inside clinging to some old woman's body."
As he dropped her to her feet, I realized the girl was even younger than I thought. How old was she? Five? What was a child doing here? I was distracted as she clumsily struck a stance and bent water toward me. I evaded without having to think about it, but the tiny flare of fire took me by surprise. I was so shocked that the block of earth almost hit me. Before she could blast me with air or some such thing, I slipped in close, hitting her pressure points and sending her into unconsciousness. The Avatar!
That explained the fortress. But why would they change the way the Avatar was raised? We'd worried there would be time for the Avatar to grow to adulthood and train before we could accomplish our goals, but she fell into our hands in the first major assault. Our Lieutenant patiently stood awaiting orders as I thought. Finally, I sent him to retrieve my brother and outline the situation. He was back with Tarrlok within minutes. We found a sheltered corner and our Lieutenant stood guard next to us as we discussed what to do.
There was no good answer. As unpleasant as it would be, it might be best to kill the girl now. She would reincarnate, but with nine months of pregnancy and years of infanthood ahead, the next Avatar could be part of our new generation. But if there were any delays we'd be saddled with another child Avatar trained to worship the bending establishment. I still preferred that plan and gambling that we'd have the success we hoped for. Tarrlok would rather we took a more merciful approach. He wanted to take the child ourselves and raise an Avatar sympathetic to our views. I wasn't sure it would work. But... she was young. After the horrors of the day, a dose of kindness might go a long ways. It might do.
Finally, I realized what his plan was missing. All we needed to do was seal her bending now and raise her to see her duty to the nonbenders of the world. If we did it now and soothed her properly, in a few years she'd hardly remember she was able to bend at all. Tarrlok seized on that idea. Before we blocked each other's bending, we could unblock hers. There would be an Avatar to balance the world, but she would be our Avatar. When our Lieutenant turned to us and gave a slight nod, we were decided.
Her bending was quietly sealed. We took her away from the fortress, made her up a cozy cabin aboard one of our ships. We decorated it with hastily gathered Water Tribe wall hangings and furs, and as she began to stir we sat beside the bed and waited for her to wake up. She was frightened at first. She cried. Tarrlok had a difficult time dealing with that. He'd always been tender-hearted. I stepped smoothly in. She asked what had happened to Sifu Katara, and my brother and I exchanged a sideways look. Who was that? I changed the subject. It wasn't hard to distract her.
Not being a bender bothered her. That made her cry harder than anything else. It took a long time to make her agree that losing her bending could maybe, possibly be a good thing. However she felt, she couldn't stay still for long. She was climbing over the furniture, looking behind curtains and under the bed for anything interesting. She informed us grandly that she was Avatar Korra, and she was going to be the best bender in the world, forgetting that she didn't have bending anymore.
She was fast, and she'd gotten the door handle before we realized what she was aiming for. Our Lieutenant was there, though, his tall frame filling the door. She glared up at him, and when she asked if she could get through it was less of a question and more of a demand. He refused of course, but she didn't fight when he picked her up and carried her back to the bed. She opened up quickly while we talked to her. It wasn't long before she was laughing and smiling as if we'd always been her friends. When we finally left the room for an exploration of the ship, she held one of my hands and one of my brother's, with our Lieutenant walking calmly behind us. The three of us exchanged a series of looks. No matter what I had suggested before, I wasn't certain I'd be able to kill her now.
Finally, we had to persuade her that we were needed elsewhere. We gave her into the care of an old woman who taught chi-blocking to the younger Equalists. We stayed long enough to make sure Korra was comfortable with her, then hurried away to finish the work of the day. We told her we'd come see her as often as we could, but it probably wouldn't be as often as any of us wanted. Her face was sad as she waved goodbye from the window, but she didn't cry.
Korra rolled over on the furs covering her bed. There really wasn't enough room when three people tried to sleep there, but Tarrlok's bed and mine weren't any larger. "I've hardly seen you for the last ten years," she muttered, "You're finally here. And you only want to tell me you need to leave again?"
Tarrlok sighed. "I know. We don't like it either." The silence was sullen, and as always, he felt compelled to fill it. "We're having more trouble than we anticipated communicating with the forces inside Ba Sing Se. It needs personal command."
"You could bring me! I'm the best chi blocker you have." We didn't say anything. It's a discussion that was beat to death a long time ago. The quiet moment stretched longer, and I began to relax into the touch of her and Tarrlok's hands. She broke the silence. "A strange woman talked to me on the street today."
"Oh?" Careful. Noncommittal. It could be nothing. But the tone of her voice made me nervous.
"She said she was my mother." Tarrlok and I exchanged a look over her head. Not good. I could feel tension knotting my muscles, and from the way his hand clenched on my shoulder I was certain he felt it too. "She said I used to be a bender."
I broke in there. "Of course you were! We've always told you." Could she hear the strain in my voice?
"She said I was the Avatar."
Tarrlok and I did our best to steer her away from that line of thought. No, no, we were certain we'd only see her bend water. And wasn't she better off now? What was bending compared to chi-blocking? She'd never met a bender who could get the best of her. We're happy, we're happy, nothing is wrong. Don't worry. Don't worry. Don't ask questions. Hush.
That night, she seemed distracted. She pulled us down to her, but after that she moved mechanically, hardly appearing to think about what she was doing. I could practically taste the desperation on Tarrlok's lips. Could she? Was I any better? I doubted it. In the morning we reassured her and tried to quietly reassure each other. We told her we'd be back as soon as we could. We showered her with kisses right until the last moment. All we could do for each other was exchange little touches, trying to persuade each other that nothing was really wrong. We couldn't stay. Ba Sing Se was a problem that couldn't be ignored. Was this? All we could do was hope that our Lieutenant would keep her happy. He would be a voice of reason to keep her centered. As she waved to us from her window, I felt a stab of fear and grabbed my brother's arm. Would she still be here waiting for us when we got back?