A/N: Hi everyone! I have always been fond of Amorra (Noatakorra? idek), and when they revealed Amon's past with Tarrlok (THE CUTE BABIES) and his ultimate fate, I was really experiencing it right in the feels. Because Amon and Tarrlok were such beautifully complex, broken, wonderful characters, and I felt more at loss when their tragic lives came to a tragic end than when Makorra became canon (because let's face it, that was really poorly done, that ending). My top ships right now are Amorra, Korroh and Borra (and maybe Korrasami :9), so I hope you enjoy this. This is just a take on a quite different alternative to Bryke's already beautiful own.

I do not own LoK.

Here are some helpful reminders:

Ages

Korra: 9

Amon: 15

Tarrlok: 10

I will also be writing another AU fic where Korra and Noatak are the same age, as inspired by a fanart I saw :9 I'm writing lots now, so look forward to them all. And please review, thankyou !

The Promise

Chapter One

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He was age 15 when he first met her.

Under the celestial skies of the Southern-Water Tribe, a place so similar yet so different to his own home back in the North, there she was, rotund and as brown as the earth itself, a fiery little bundle of what he was sure was both a nuisance and a joy. Her big blue eyes so sharp, her little chin so determined, Noatak knew, just knew, just by looking at her she was something special.

Of course, that something special he soon realised was that she was the Avatar.

He didn't know how he had ended up here, thousands of miles away from home. Here, so distant, so detached from his old life, the winds were just as bitterly cold, were just as harshly unforgiving as the ones back home themselves. And yet, he felt different, somehow. Liberated.

Transformed.

He had swam endless stretches of the icy seas, braved the coldest of tundras, anywhere, anything, just to escape his old life under the treacherous hand of his oppressive father. Instantly, Noatak felt his brow furrow at the thought of his father. His father. To call the man that was almost despicable. No father reared his children to be avengers, to use deadly arts against one another, to bring inequality and injustice to the world, corrupted by power. No child deserved that.

Tarrlok didn't deserve that.

Begrudgingly, Noatak felt his heart clench unpleasantly at the thought of his little brother. How was his little brother doing now, he wondered, living with that monster they called 'father' and with their soft-hearted mother? Tarrlok had always been fragile and sweet-tempered, naive and completely innocent. All his life, Noatak had been looking out for him, keeping him out of harm's way. Was Tarrlok safe with mother, as pure and as gentle as always? Or had he incurred the wrath of their father, he instead burdened with the task of vengeance? Noatak scowled. Why did it matter anyway? It was his brother's choice to remain there, to be weak. Whatever happened to Tarrlok now shouldn't remain as any concern to him.

But yet again Noatak felt his eyes dreadfully soften, his fury helplessly dampen. He loved Tarrlok, his most precious person in the whole world. And admittedly, regrettably, the only reason he had been harsh on the little Waterbender was because he'd been rather hurt that his brother had even had to hesitate in going with him, when he himself would have gone so willingly without a moment's reluctance had it been the other way round. Tarrlok, Tarrlok, Tarrlok... if it hadn't been for him, Noatak wouldn't be left feeling this way, feeling a slight yet very real sense of regret, sense of yearning to return back to his home, his mother, his monstrous father, his brother.

What he needed was something to sever his ties to them, to give him a new identity, a new sense of purpose.

What he needed was rebirth.

And so, when the portly yet boisterous little Avatar bounded over to him after having noticed his stagnant, grim position all during her Waterbending training session, much to the chagrin of her extensive guards and masters (yet another example of how benders such as herself were so privileged, so unequal), and asked his name, it was without hesitation that the young Nothern-Water Tribe boy gave his new name, so driven and certain, so ready to put on his new mask.

"Amon," he said, staring coolly down into the eyes of the young 9 year old who would soon become his enemy, his greatest adversary.

The little girl simply glared right back up at him, unaware of the fear and hate she would soon learn to thrust upon him in the future, as her fate determined, as her duty as the Avatar.

"Really? What kind of name is that?" The girl asked, face scrunched, crossing her chubby little arms, as the older boy regarded her with stifled curiosity and amusement, despite knowing, knowing deep, deep down this little girl would become the embodiment of everything he was against in the future. Then, she finally smiled up at him, albeit as defiantly as a cross young saber-tooth moose lion. The expression was enough to quirk a raised eyebrow from the boy.

"My name's Korra," the little girl announced proudly, strongly, as loud and clear as the howls of the winds themselves,

'And I'm the Avatar."

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It had been two weeks since the Avatar's and the future Equalist leader's first meeting, and already Amon could feel the threads of fate pulling them closer and closer together, tying them to their destinies and inevitable futures.

Nonetheless, Amon could have never anticipated the threads would bind the both of them to a fate such as this.

"Amon, look at this! I made a snow-angel!"

Making snow-angels with the Avatar.

Needless to say, Amon's plans to rid the world of inequality and thus rid the world of bending was going along rather splendidly.

After their curious little meeting, Korra had been forced to retreat back under the watchful eyes of her guards, where she promptly proceeded to throw a fit, for reason of the guards "ruining all the fun". After that scene, Amon had retreated into the shadows of the snow, where he had since been keeping a living for himself, hunting fish (just as his father had taught him, much to his bitterness) and sneaking into an idle cave he had found where he kept himself warm by snuggling into his furs and dreaming of his brother's radiant face. It was hard, but he managed.

It was during the coldest nights that Amon had reflected on his next move; his next step in achieving equality for all. He knew he could not stay here for too long, knowing that if he were to begin his quest for equality the very base of the Avatar was not a good place to begin. But where could he go? Eventually, he concluded that he needed somewhere where non-benders thrived, where the injustices that were the results of benders' actions were rife and numerous. But where? Growing up in the Northern-Water Tribe, Amon along with his community had been secluded and isolated from the rest of the world, his father being the only connection between himself and the world outside of the Arctic tundras he called home. Where had his father said he came from again? Between the recounts of his father's arrogant boasts of ruling where he came from, of running the people with an iron fist, Amon struggled to retrieve the name of the place. Finally, exhausted and body aching for sleep, Amon had succumbed to slumber, eyes heavy and body cold. Wherever his father came from, he would find out. And when he arrived there, he would seek to restore the balance and equality that his very father had disrupted using his bending.

Bending. Amon looked at his palm as his boots crunched into the snow, footsteps following the voice of the Avatar, feeling an intense hatred burn through him. His father had used it for evil, and now he himself had it. Him and his brother. It was enough to make him sick. Bending, the cause of all suffering in the world. Bending, the very core of all evil and oppression.

After the way his own brother's eyes had widened in fear of him, Noatak, who had been his most trusted friend and brother for years, Amon had vowed never to use bending to harm another again.

Bending, the source of all power.

Bending, the root of all suffering.

But that conclusion was hard to come to, now that the Avatar's great big glorious eyes shone up at him admiringly, threatening to shake the very foundations of all he believed in and sought truth in.

It was after one night of intense thinking that she had found him, body frozen to the bone and skin dangerously icy. She had been on one of her occasional nightly expeditions, playing her own little game of hide-and-seek with her stuffy White Lotus guards when she had chanced upon him. Him, the one with the funny name and the stern, solemn, much-too-serious face. Creating a small flame in her hands, Korra had cautiously ghosted the shivering boy's form with her fingertips, precious warmth radiating from them and spreading onto the boy's frozen skin. When Amon had shuddered awake, Korra had given a loud whoop - and, within moments of her voice echoing throughout the dead of the night, and numerous streams of fire erupting from the entrance of the cave thanks to her flexible bending skills, Amon had quickly come to the aid of her guards and the great healer Katara herself, Master Waterbender and widow of the last Avatar. Initially, Amon had retracted from the hand of a Bender who had used the dark arts of Bloodbending herself to achieve her means at one point during her adventures as the Avatar's friend. But, too tired to argue, Amon had shamefully accepted the Bender's help, instead falling right to sleep in the Avatar's own compound. And so, the Avatar as stubborn and foolishly persistent as ever, and Amon much too fatigued to complain yet again, Amon had become a resident of sorts in the compound, the Avatar his new-found companion.

And his quest to spread his hatred against Benders soon fell apart from there.

"Amon," Korra now said again, vying for his attention with a big pout on her round face, "Amon, look at me! I'm snowbending!" the girl announced in her loud, childish voice, as she frantically moved her limbs, back against the snow, button nose pink and eyes as blue as ever as she looked up at him, as pure as the snow itself.

Just like Tarrlok, the Northern-Water Tribe boy thought ruefully.

He knew he shouldn't get attached to her, and he had tried to avoid doing so. But the girl had been dreadfully insistent in pursuing a friendship of sorts with him. Initially, Amon had remained brutally cold and unresponsive to her, ignoring her and neglecting her pleas for attention from him. And yet, she remained firm and stubborn, to the point where she would snuggle into his bed late at night just to get him used to the idea that they were friends because "friends always sleep in each other's beds!" She was an utter headache, and yet a delight as well. So childish for her age, so sheltered, and yet so untainted by the horrors of the world he himself had grown accustomed to. And when she smiled, Amon could almost feel the warmth radiate off her.

The Avatar.

His new 'friend'.

Besides, it was rather lonely in this foreign land, away from his kind-hearted mother and his silly little brother. The Avatar, despite her occasional annoyances, was a welcome addition to his new life as a new being.

Even if she was what she was.

The Avatar.

"Impressive," Amon's cold voice replied, as disdainful and as apathetic as he could allow, "I'm sure everyone's really impressed with their Avatar right now."

Instantly, Amon regretted the harshness of his words as the little girls' face fell, her eyes suddenly downcast. Stopping her erratic motions in the snow, the little girl remained on her back, looking so dreadfully defeated that even he could not resist the wrench of pity currently at the pit of his stomach.

"Oh," was all the young girl could manage, looking bashfully ashamed as the teenage boy felt himself fall all the more into a pit of guilt and remorse.

"H-hey, wait, all right! I was just kidding!" Amon managed, grabbing onto the little girl's wirst as her eyes began to water and she began to walk away, footsteps heavy and chin wobbling horribly. "I didn't mean those things I said, okay?" Amon conceded, crouching down to her level as he held the side of her face, the other hand holding her own, her gaze still downcast.

"I'm sorry."

Suddenly, Korra's face lit up, and it was enough for Noatak, not Amon, to forget about his mission, forget about their roles in the world. Vaguely, he was reminded of his little brother's own face when little Tarrlok had fallen in the snow, and Noatak had caressed him in his older brother fashion and Tarrlok smiled and everything was all right again. Back in the good old days.

Back when life was perfect.

"You big bully!" Korra exclaimed, poking out her tongue as she furiously rubbed away her tears, "one day I'm gonna be the best Avatar and you're gonna be sorry for ever being mean to me again! Bully!" Korra declared, planting her tiny hands on her hips.

And just like that, the fantasy that he and the Avatar could ever be friends faded away as reality sank its cold claws into him.

She was the Avatar.

He wanted equality.

And yet, soon it became the Avatar's face too that would keep him warm through the night.

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"Amon?" Korra cried frantically, now finally having reached the age of 10, her eyes scanning the white horizon from the doorway as she called the name again. "Amon, where are you?"

Inwardly, Korra cursed herself for being so silly. She had been so stupid, crying over the fact that there was no one there to celebrate or acknowledge her birthday with her! Having been separated from her loving parents ever since being discovered for her power, Korra had been restricted to the compound her whole life, her only friends being the guards and Sifu Katara. And Amon, Korra thought to herself with a smile, before anxiety claiming her features once more. Where was he? After she had tearfully admitted it was her birthday and no one had even noticed, Amon had curtly turned out of the compound and into the snow, his absence having lingered on for two hours now. Now, Korra was worried and fearful for the young, mysterious Water-tribe boy. Though she would never admit it out loud, Amon was the closest thing she'd ever had to a real friend. Life without him now was almost unimaginable.

"Amon..." Korra sniffed horribly, burying her face into her palms as she let the tears flow freely, "oh Amon, please be all right..."

"Crying again because of me? That's the second time this month, Avatar." a familiar voice suddenly drifted in, as Korra felt her heart soar as she lifted her face from her hands.

"Amon!" There he stood, dark hair mussed up from its usual ponytail and dark skin etched with scratches that made Korra worry far more than she ever had, face smiling yet tired, but still alive, still very much alive. Unable to contain her joy, Korra practically gave a cry of joy as she sped towards him encircling his tall form with her arms. "Amon!" Korra cried, squeezing him tight, "Amon, you're safe!"

"Take it easy, will you," Amon's voice chastised lightly, slightly pleased the girl was so worried about him, "my body's still a bit sore from all the trekking I had to do."

At this, Korra released him from her strong grasp, taking a step back to look up at him. "Where did you go?" Korra demanded, feeling horribly embarrassed for having been so emotional in his absence, "and what took you so long?" she inquired, her cheeks hot and flushed as he looked down at her.

"I was out getting you a present, of course," Amon replied, enjoying this far too much as he kept his expression only slightly smug, "she was a bit hard convincing to come along, but as soon as I came across her I thought she'd be perfect for you." Amon now began unravelling the bundles of cloth and furs in his arms as Korra watched in curiosity.

"A present, for me?" Korra inquired, standing on tip-toes to try and catch a glimpse of what was in the bundle. Then, she blinked. "'She'?" Korra pondered, as Amon finally finished his work.

"This, Korra," Amon explained carefully, as he knelt down to Korra's level, her eyes burning with curiosity at the pile of furs in his arms, "is your birthday present from me to you."

Slowly, an expanse of snow white fur made itself visible from the sea of other materials. Then, emerging from it were two button black eyes and a very wet, black nose.

Korra's face lightened up immensely.

"Oh Amon, is it - ?" her own voice could not contain the excitement that burst from her very being.

"Your very own polar bear dog," Amon finished leisurely, watching as Korra carefully snatched up the big pup into her arms, her face in pure awe.

"Oh, she's perfect, Amon..." Korra trailed off in admiration, as the little pup resumed its sleep after nuzzling into the girl's face gently, "but how did you get her? Polar bear dogs are dangerous!" Korra snapped, worry biting at her stomach again as she turned to give him a stern look. If he'd gotten hurt because of her, she'd...!

"Relax, I'm fine," Amon confirmed, as Korra's eyes locked onto the quivering pup's contented form once more, "I found her abandoned in the cave I used to occupy. Her mother was dead when I got there. She had no one else," Amon explained gently, as his own palm came to rest on the animal, carefully stroking it, reminded of the wolves he'd practised his Bloodbending on in what seemed like decades ago, "so I thought she'd be the perfect companion for you. Happy birthday." Amon finished quietly, not daring to look at the girl before him.

Quietly, Korra got up, and, depositing the animal as carefully as possible onto her bed, wrapping the furs of sheets around it as delicately as she could, Korra returned to the boy standing from afar watching her closely, wordlessly. Never before had she ever received such kindness, such tenderness or compassion. For once, Korra herself was speechless.

"Hey, listen..." Amon trailed off after what seemed like hours, suddenly feeling very foolish and very vulnerable, "if you're going to go crying again..."

And then he was cut off by two tight, warm arms surrounding him, and once again there he was, being embraced by the Avatar, his sworn enemy, and the girl he was slowly becoming rather fond of, too fond of. All of a sudden, Noatak felt a rush of warmth envelop him, and he could not help but feel himself melt against her as his cheeks flamed, realising that for the first time in his life Korra was a girl, a girl six years younger than him, but a rather cute girl nonethless. And so, feeling like the cursed fool he had now become, Noatak let himself fall into her arms as she whispered words only he could hear, only he was meant to hear.

"Amon," Korra spoke in a quiet, serious tone, "you were my first real friend and now you've given me my second one. Ever since I met you you changed my life, helped me realise there was more to life than just training or being the Avatar," Korra continued, as Amon's heart plummeted at the last bit, "so I just want to say one thing. I don't know how long you'll be here, or if we'll always be friends, but I want you to know something:

thankyou, Amon."

And burying her head into his chest, Amon felt his arms, as if being Bloodbended themselves, wrap themselves around her in return, shutting his eyes and inhaling the purity that was the Avatar, that was Korra.

It was moments like these that Amon would remember as his fondest before he fully wore his mask.

Before he let the moments slip through his fingers forever.

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It all came to an end on that day. The day he realised he could no longer live in this illusion, this sick fantasy of a distorted reality. She was the Avatar, not some girl he could remain friends with all his life. Not some girl he could carve a betrothal necklace to when they were of appropriate age, not some girl he could hope to escape the horrors of Bending with forever. He was Amon now. Not Noatak. He had a duty, to equalize the world.

And being friends with the Avatar just wasn't going to do that anymore.

"Why do you have to go?" Korra sobbed between tears, as tearful and as guilt-inducing as the little girl he had made cry all those months ago. Dressed in her oversized little parka, Korra was the personification of pity as Amon's own light eyes regarded her with deep regret. Even Naga, the little polar bear dog he had procured for Korra for her birthday for what seemed like ages ago looked sorrowfully up at him, its big black eyes begging him not to go, to stay, to stay for Korra.

"I have an important mission I need to fulfil," Amon reasurred her, crouching down once more to stroke her cheek, just like he did when Tarrlok begged for him not to go with his father to that dreaded 'hunting trip' that had resulted in this whole mess so very long, long ago. No matter how much Amon liked Korra, he couldn't let her get in the way of his mission. Not even the face of the portly pugnacious young Avatar could sway him from his path.

It was a fact he'd learnt to hate himself for everyday.

"Why can't I come too?" Korra whined stubbornly, the epitome of sadness, "why can't I come with you?" she pleaded, clasping onto his hand firmly, shaking her head furiously. "I'm going with you, Amon!" Korra declared loudly, "I'm going with you, and you can't stop me! Deal with it!"

"Korra," Amon reprimanded her half-heartedly, tugging her into a gentle hug as her tears wet his top, "you know you can't. You're the Avatar," Amon stated emptily, blankly, "and you need to finish up your training. I, on the other hand," he explained gently, "have to do this alone. You have to understand."

"No!" Korra cried out, holding onto him even more tightly, "no, you don't have to! The Avatar's supposed to help her friends, even when they want to be alone! Let me come with you!" Korra implored him, "then, once you're done, we can go back, go back home. And you'll never have to leave again," Korra concluded, as she wiped away her tears.

"Oh Korra," Amon sighed, "how I wish it was that simple. But you can't," Amon smiled sadly, "as much as I'd like to stay, I can't. I have to move on."

"No, no, no!" Korra wailed, stamping her feet to the point that the earth beneath them began to shake ever so slightly, "I won't let you go! I won't!"

Calmly, Amon pulled her once again into his embrace, where he let her soak his coat with her tears once more. Never had he imagined that the Avatar and him would have formed such a profound, strong bond. But they had, and now they were paying the consequences for it.

And still, Amon could not regret having befriended the little Water-tribe girl at all.

"Listen up," Amon informed her closely, tugging her hands away from her face so that she was forced to look at him, "why don't I promise you something, okay? Something not even the Spirits could break, something that once promised will never be broken?" Amon told her gently, as she looked at him through teary, wary eyes.

"W-what...?" Korra's voice wobbled.

"I'm promise," Amon swore solemnly, eyes gazing into hers, "that no matter what happens, we will meet again. No matter what. Even if I go blind, or you end up being the biggest crybaby ever - " at this he recieved a fairly powerful punch to the arm, "we will meet again. Is that enough, Avatar Korra?" Amon asked her, intense and awaiting.

For a moment, Korra looked as if she were about to cry again. But, instead, settling into a sad, wobbly smile, Korra nodded her head, blue eyes as beautiful as the day he had first met her.

"Promise? Even if you end up becoming the biggest bully ever, and I become the greatest Avatar ever?" Korra reiterated, smiling through her tears.

"Promise," Amon nodded, her hands still held up in his as he nodded resolutely.

"Okay then," Korra finally conceded, looking slightly doubtful, and a little angry, "but you better not keep me waiting too long!"

Amon managed a smile. "Of course," he said, "anything for the Avatar."

And so it was done. Korra watched as the tall boy from the Water-tribe that she had never really gotten to know yet felt she could trust the most in the world disappeared into the cloak of the snow, Naga licking her hand in comfort as Korra's eyes followed his back in both hope and yearning.

"You better keep your promise, Amon..." Korra whispered under her breath, despair and misery wrenching her very being, as she stood beneath the falling snow.

Meanwhile, Amon, finally well on his way for his quest for equality, allowed a single tear to slip from his eyes, full knowing the weight of his promise.

For certain, he and the Avatar would cross paths again.

The part that made Amon shed a tear however, as his mask cracked for once, single, insignificant moment, was the fact that, no matter what, the next time they crossed paths, he and Korra would be enemies.

And still, the boy with the fragmented past walked on.

The promise would be fulfilled.

And Amon would soon learn to hate himself every single day after for promising to keep it.