Rating: T
Word Count: ~2500
Summary: "Duende" is a moment of pure passion and wild abandon. It is special and it is fleeting, and only the best dancers can entrance the crowd. If one wants to see a true dancer move in Republic City, one must track down the Avatar. Dance AU
Author Note: Inspired by flamenco, but with some made up details to mash in the Avatar universe. This is a variation on the dance AU that is quite popular, but with inspiration from flamenco dance.
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Republic City is known across the world for the melding of cultures and traditions. And this intersection of people all across the four nations creates a unique flavor that one must simply experience first-hand. This, of course, is a fact known to all. With each newcomer into the bustling metropolis comes another pinch of foreign spice that melts into city making it more and more unique with every docking ship.
In each of the ethnic neighborhoods and scattered throughout the various districts, one can find every flavor imaginable. From the fresh, lightly seasoned flavor of the Water Tribes, to the dry spice of the Fire Nation, the light vegetarian fare of the Air Nomads, and the wide savory variety of the Earth Kingdom, there is something to satisfy each taste. In the air, the distinct sounds of street musicians fill ears all around. Distinctive twang of native string instruments and the thrum of animal skin drum heads mix to create an entirely new style.
This is the draw of Republic City.
For Mako, a lifelong resident, much of this is easy to take for granted. But considering that much of his exposure to the city in his youth was to the seedy underbelly that crushes the dreams of many immigrants, his outlook isn't all too surprising. Yet somehow, his efforts somehow managed to preserve the youthful idealism of his younger brother Bolin.
He works odd jobs all the while pursuing entry to the police academy. A few shifts in the power plant here, a few nights as a bouncer there. Anything that puts money in his pocket is worth his time. Bolin does much the same, but works as a bouncer every night. And on those late night shifts at clubs and bars, the green-eyed young man developed a taste: a taste for dance.
Dance is much the same as any other art in Republic City. People brought the native dances and styles of each of the Four Nations into the city. At first, there were certain clubs and gathering places for those that wanted to move with certain steps to remember the old country. But as time passed and people mingled, so did the dance. The strong, grounded style of the Earth Kingdom took some of the fluidity of the Water Tribes, and the Air Nomads took some of the power from the Fire Nation. Dancers, with limited time like all people, knew that mastering one style was attainable.
But all four styles?
There are whispers of one woman who has.
They call her the Avatar.
People whisper that she is a manifestation of the dance spirit. They say that she is in an incarnation of soul and spirit as she glides across the dance floor as other part before her to give her space like a mythical sea. They say she can move through each of the four district styles with the ease of running water.
She has duende they say. When she dances she goes into a place like none other; some even said that her eyes glowed white. Duende is what gives one chills from performance. It is not about ability, but of living style that pumps through the blood in spontaneity. Duende is a power that seizes the dancer and the audience and traps the room under a powerful spell. But the Avatar does not surrender to duende; it is a skillful battle in hand-to-hand combat to stay right on the precipice of oblivion.
The Avatar travels the world, dancing place to place and living on the kindness of strangers. Apparently now, she is back in Republic City.
"We have to see her!" Bolin begs.
"Bolin, Friday is my only night off this week," Mako crosses his arms and peers over the top of his newspaper. "I'd actually like to get a decent night's sleep for once, not go running around chasing some girl for you."
"This is once in a lifetime! Take a chance for once!"
"I don't even like dancing," he grumbles. It's true; he prefers to spend his leisure time in different ways.
"Come on bro!" Bolin plops down on the lumpy excuse for a couch. "I promise I'll do the dishes and take out the trash for the next week."
Mako could simply not turn down an opportunity like this. "Make it two weeks and you have a deal."
"You got it!"
The Avatar doesn't get booked in clubs or venues; she simply shows up to dance. Somewhere, somehow she will appear on the dance floor and cue the band with just a look and a gesture of the arm to communicate what she feels like dancing to in the moment. It is spontaneous, and apparently it makes it better and infinitely more special to catch the Avatar.
Bolin says that he "knows people." He has a few nights to chat with friends, acquaintances, and patrons during his bouncing shifts to ascertain exactly where the Avatar will show up. In her few days in town, she hit clubs styled after the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation. Bolin's friends are sure that she will hit an establishment unlike she has recently. His brother insists that he has a "feeling" that she'll hit up a moderate sized Water Tribe dance club in the waterfront district.
Since Mako signed away his ability to complain away with his responsibility to do dishes and take out the trash, he merely kept his mouth closed and followed along with his scarf wrapped tightly about his neck. Republic City was not pleasant in the winter.
A bus ride and two quick transfers brings them to an unmarked door in the Little Water Tribe neighborhood. The streets were bustling with weekend foot traffic, people eager to get out of their small apartments even if that meant braving the early chill that had set in during the autumn. Laughter and steam from cooking rises from small crowds that huddled about a few ethnic food carts, all unaware of what apparently was behind the door Bolin was so sure about.
His brother pushes through the black door and the thrum of music greets his ears immediately. It's the sound of a chorus of drums all beating a complex cadence in unison. A narrow dark hallway that could barely fit two abreast leads into the main room. Mako finds himself slightly in awe at the mass of bodies at the center of the floor; nightlife wasn't something that he habitually enjoys.
"Hey!" Mako exclaims as a girl bumps into him, some of her drink sloshing on to his shoes. "Watch where you're going!"
"Sorry," she winces, and pulls a paper napkin out of her pocket and hands the white sheet to him. "It's kind of crowded in here," she rubs the back of her neck.
"Still…" he bends down to sop off what liquid hadn't yet seeped into his socks, "…just watch where you're going."
"Yeah, you're right. I'm Korra by the way!"
"I'm Mako," he shakes her hand. Her grip is strong and confident; it doesn't pass his notice.
Her bright blue eyes shine against the dim backdrop of the club. Her Water Tribe garb betrays her heritage as she smiles brightly at him. There's something unique about her, something he can't quite put a finger on. She has an aura that makes her stand out against everyone else in the room.
"Do you, uh, come here often?" Korra placed her now empty drink down.
But he isn't here to socialize; he's here to make sure Bolin doesn't spend a week's worth of wages on overpriced drinks. He's here because he promised. "Yeah um…not really." He knows it comes off as cold, but it's admittedly on purpose.
"Well, okay then," she shrugs it off. "I'm here to dance." She weaves into the crowd out of sight.
Mako catches the back of Bolin's head at the bar and pushes his way through the crowd to reach him. His brother shoves a blue-colored drink into his hands.
"Have you seen her yet?" Bolin has to speak loudly and lean in to be heard over the music.
"You think I have any clue what she looks like?" He sniffs the drink experimentally. It smells like strong booze cut with a bit of fruit juice.
"I feel like you'd know if you see the Avatar," his brother practically gushes.
"Who knows?" He shrugged. "She might not even be here."
"We just got here! Come on, drink a bit and live a little! I'm buying!"
Free booze is difficult for even Mako to turn down. He takes a shot of whiskey to loosen his nerves and quell the want to leave the club. He leans nonchalantly against a wall, his arms crossed and body language closed off. He already scared off the most interesting conversation prospect of the evening. Korra…maybe he would have the chance to bump into her again before the night was over.
Suddenly, the atmosphere of the club changes as the music fades just slightly. A lone pair of hands rises above the crowd of the dance floor. The dancer claps, starting their palmas; a seductive and syncopated rhythm that stirs his blood. The house band soon changes to adapt to the whims of the lone dancer. The crowd slowly backs up out of the dancer's way, giving them space to start.
Mako cranes his neck to look and sidesteps through the crowd until he can see over the throng of people. It's Korra, all alone in the middle. She wears a carefree smile on her face as she gives a nod to the band, approving their rhythm and harmony choices.
Then it begins.
The way she dances, gliding and leaping across the floor is intoxicating. Her dress spins and flares around her feet as she turns round and round. The crowd holds their breath, just as he does, as she moves from the fluid Water Tribe style to a more grounded stance, marking her entry to the style characteristic to the Earth Kingdom. She throws a few moves that look reminiscent of the remaining two styles, but Mako isn't sure; his eye isn't trained in the slightest to interpret dance.
Duende is real. He swears he sees her eyes flash white before she seems to float above the ground. It is a moment of passion in its purest form. She is breathtaking. Everything but her fades away from his sphere of awareness.
The way she moves seems so utterly impossible. She is smooth like water, light like air, stable like earth, and awe inspiring like fire. And somehow, Korra manages to do this all at once. It's a paradox he knows, but there are few coherent thoughts he can form as his eyes follow her body's dance.
Korra is the Avatar, and he's an idiot.
She buzzes past the crowd as they hoop and holler before reentering herself in the circle of people. She starts clapping again, encouraging the crowd to join her in this new beat. Some say that duende makes men and women alike rip their shirts off; with the frenzy that the crowd rises to, Mako realizes that it was no myth.
This is when their eyes met.
Korra smiles broadly and steps towards him. The crowd parts, ready to give her all the space she needs, but Mako stays rooted in place. It as is his feet are lead and anchored to the floor as she holds a hand out to him and shoots him a rousing look.
"Dance with me, City Boy," she beckons him with a nod.
"I-I can't dance," Mako shakes his head.
"You have a body don't you? One you have control over?" Korra grabs him by the wrist. "Then you can dance."
"Not like you."
"Dancing is always more fun with someone else," she pulls him out on the floor. "Dancing is like life; if you don't fill it with interesting people and pursuits you will feel like you don't have purpose."
Other couples fill in; moving their bodies to the music alongside the Avatar, but the self-consciousness he feels fails to fade.
His hands find her body, and despite being in the "leading" position, Korra most certainly controls this dance. But she does so subtly, redirecting his body with hers if they are about to misstep or trip. Without shame she presses herself against him as she wears a great smile. He can't help but follow her as his mind begins to become wrapped and consumed by the act of dancing.
"What is it like?" His voice is just loud enough for her to hear him.
"What is what like?"
"Duende. The Avatar State."
Korra tips her head back and laughs. He swears it's the most beautiful sound that has ever met his ears and passed into his consciousness. "It's like being touched by the Spirits. It's a moment of pure pleasure, just like making love."
She stands on her tiptoes as her hand snake around his neck. Her lips reach up to meet his as their bodies meld in another new way. Blood pounds through his ears as he melds his lips against hers again and again. Electricity zips through his body as his nerves sing with pleasure. It is utterly sublime and ends far too soon.
"It's a little like that," she grins.
Mako can only hold her to him as they sway to the music.
"I leave Republic City tomorrow," Korra kisses at his neck. "And something tells me you aren't the kind of guy to follow a girl like me around."
"How can I see you again?"
"I'll be back. I always come back. And you'll find me."
When the club begins to clear, their fingers untangle and their bodies cease to touch. They share another quick kiss before she dances away into the night with a wave and a smile that says, "I'll see you again." Remnant happiness of the night lingers within him, spinning through his stomach and making his heart light. Mako even forgets that he's lost Bolin over the course of the evening.
Perhaps being with Korra in that moment was the closest he would ever get to experience duende. Perhaps that was enough. But Mako knew that he certain he hasn't had enough of Korra.
Not quite yet.